Working It Out
by ManhattanWitch
Summary: Harry and Malfoy are the bane of their Professors lives. When they finally go too far, can the teachers new idea help them stop fighting? Or will it push them away? HPDM, Slash, Drarry.
1. Chapter 1

**Title****: Working It Out (temp)**

**Summary****: Harry and Malfoy are the bane of their Professors lives. When they finally go too far, can the teacher's new idea help them stop fighting? Or will it push them away? Or will it make their rivalry worse?**

**Warnings****: Graphic sex, SLASH, yaoi, boy-on-boy, foul language, fighting, etc. Not for the faint of heart. What can I say? It's fun to write. *grin* manipulative!Draco, powerful!Harry, redeemable!Hermione**

**Author's Note****: I wrote this whole story when I was supposed to be finishing 'And You Thought This, Why?' the sequel to 'Um, Whoops?'. *sigh* oh well. Enjoy! Also, the Points of View switch per chapter. So, Harry, then Draco, then Harry, and so on.**

**_Important:_**

**_This story will be posted following this format- Chapter 1 was posted when Chapter 5 was completed. Chapter 2 will be posted when Chapter 6 is completed, and so on. I AM writing this story, don't fear- I love the idea of it too much to avoid continuing it. My other stories will continue to be posted sporadically. Thanks for listening._**

**Chapter 1-**

_There are times_, Harry thought with a scowl, _when I should know to just let things go._ He glared around the Headmaster's office, pointedly ignoring one side of it. Dumbledore wasn't there yet, and Harry was starting to get antsy. The fact that he didn't know how to let things go was what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. Ignoring Malfoy should be second nature to him by now, and yet every time that stupid fucker opened his mouth, Harry just couldn't leave it be.

And this morning at breakfast had been a perfect example. Malfoy had been spouting off his usual idiotic and derogatory comments, and Harry had been denying his existence very well. That is, until the arse started in on Harry's family.

No matter how strong Ron's grasp was on his arm, or how rational Hermione sounded, nothing could have kept him seated at that point. He'd surged off the bench, and as the hall saw him move, everyone went quiet with expectation. On Saturday's, the teachers ate by themselves in a private lounge. Everyone knew that if things started to get rough, there wouldn't be any teachers around to stop them.

Harry had stepped out from the table and walked over to his nemesis, asking, "Repeat that, Malfoy?" , and of course the Slytherin had.

Harry wasn't even sure himself who had thrown that first punch- it might have been him, responding to the insult, or it might have been Malfoy, trying to get the upper hand. But it didn't even matter, really. Harry had known, even as he felt a fist collide with his cheekbone and as he grappled Malfoy, trying to pin the other boy down, that it never really mattered.

Even as hastily dressed teachers descended on the Hall, led by a fearfully determined Neville, even as they were pulled apart and snapped at, and even as they were hauled to the Infirmary, he'd acknowledged that sometimes the only thing keeping him sane- the _only _thing- were these confrontations with Malfoy.

Oh, he would never admit that to anyone, but these fights were anchors to a world he no longer felt he really existed in. The fights reminded him that there was more to life than training, that there was at least one person who didn't see their 'Savior'. Whatever his faults, to Malfoy he was just an ordinary man.

The sound of an opening door brought him back from the past, and he looked over to see Dumbledore walking into the room, Fawkes gracefully floating in behind him. Unfortunately, that also brought Malfoy back into view, and Harry couldn't stop a scowl from rearranging his features.

Dumbledore settled himself at his desk, his no longer twinkling eyes pinning the two boys with a sadly determined expression. When Harry started to shift uncomfortably in his chair, the Headmaster began.

"I cannot understand why the two of you continue to have these altercations, when in the past such actions have always been followed by detentions and loss of House points."

He paused, and Harry thought he was trying to get them to say something to rationalize their actions. But he was damned if he was going to say anything, and from the corner of his eye he could see in the set of Malfoy's face, the slightly raised eyebrow, that he felt the same way. He turned his head and eyed Fawkes thoughtfully, a slight grin lifting his lips when the phoenix crooned at him.

Dumbledore sighed. "Your Heads of House have come to me with a demand that you cease this at once. This senseless violence of yours is trickling down to the younger years. The relations between both your Houses have never been so poor."

Harry shrugged. However much it went against his image in the wizarding world, he didn't care. He'd stopped caring about anything except fighting a long time ago. Dumbledore continued.

"Therefore, I have decided that, given the unique circumstances-" meaning Harry still hadn't defeated Voldemort and Lucious Malfoy was still the Head of the Board of Governors- "the two of you will not face expulsion, as would be the normal price for so flagrantly disobeying both myself and Professor's McGonagall and Snape time and time again. Instead, I have decided that the two of you will stay in an isolation chamber until you can resolve this conflict between you."

Harry bolted straight up, not caring that for once, he and Malfoy were in agreement about something.

"Sir, that's barbaric! You can't-!"

"But, Professor! I have Quiddi-!"

"Silence!" Harry and Malfoy both paused mid-sentence, gaping at the Headmaster in shock. "Your Heads of House and I all agree that, given the special circumstances, this is the best approach to solving this."

Dumbledore pinned Harry and Malfoy with a glare and continued. "Now, all your things have already been moved to the chamber, and- depending on how long this takes- your assignments will be delivered to you, along with food and all necessities." He stood, and Harry and Malfoy copied him unthinkingly, following as he walked to the door. The Headmaster went on as he led them down his winding stairs and across the corridor, leading them towards an unused tower.

"There have been several spells placed on the room. They will keep myself and Professors McGonagall and Snape informed of your actions, and will sound an alarm if you resort to violence." Dumbledore stopped suddenly and turned to them, face set. "You understand that your behavior must change. This school cannot afford to be divided over petty differences, not ever, but most especially not now!"

As he turned back and continued to led them to their cell, Harry heard him repeat under his breath, "Most especially not now."

They continued walking in silence after that, Harry silently fuming as he translated that muttered comment- that they couldn't afford to have their Weapon's attention not fully on the situation with Voldemort.

Harry continued to seethe as they were lead up several sets of winding stairs, across a hall, and up yet another flight of stairs.

They stopped their ascent at the top of the tower, and a door appeared in front of them. Dumbledore turned to them and said, "One last thing." He held out his hand, and as they looked at him in askance, sighed and said, "Wands."

Harry yanked his out of his robes with ill grace, slapping it into the Headmaster's hand while Malfoy did the same. The door swung silently open, and as they stepped inside, the Gryffindor heard Dumbledore sigh. He turned and sneered at the door as it closed in his face.

Harry huffed, and then turned to face the room. His eyes narrowed. Their cell was furnished, alright, but the furniture looked second hand and wobbly, the rugs were threadbare, the fireplace small, and there was barely enough room to turn around in for one person, much less for two. The only redeeming feature in the room was that half of the wall was solid glass from floor to ceiling, and the view of the Forbidden Forest was spectacular.

He shared a disgusted glance with Malfoy; he noted with some surprise that this was the second time today that they had agreed about something. He shook his head and turned to the other side of the common room, eyeing the two doors curiously, then went over to one while Malfoy went over to the other. The door he went to, he noticed, was covered in little splinters, and the paint was peeling off. He shivered in disgust. Obviously the house elves either weren't allowed in here, or they didn't know about this suite.

He pushed the door open and stood in the frame, and a furious expression settled on his face.

"No fucking way!" he spat, livid. "When I get my hands on him, I'm gonna fucking kill him!" he finished with a growl. The unusual sound of Harry cursing had drawn Malfoy over, and they both backed away from the sight before them.

In the room, painted a distasteful dirty-yellow, were two twin beds pushed right up against opposing walls. Even as far way as they could get, there was only about five feet of space between the two beds. The beds were covered in mustard yellow sheets, with violet bedspreads. Harry's lip curled as he fought down more curses and the urge to throw hexes at something, _anything_.

He shut the door firmly, blocking off the eye blinding sight. "There is no way I'm sleeping in there!" Harry said firmly. Malfoy just raised an elegant eyebrow. Harry scoffed. "Don't tell me you're going to. That place is a dump! I can't believe I got stuck in here."

_That _got a response out of the blond, alright. "You? Did I hear that right? The uncouth Gryffindor who grew up with Muggles? _You_ have a problem with that room?" He raised a hand to forestall Harry's protests. "I'll have you know that this pitiful excuse for a room doesn't even come close to the luxuries I am accustomed to. Hell, our dungeons are better furnished than this, this _mess_."

Malfoy's arms had been crossed- now they drifted down to his sides as he leaned forward with a smirk. "Although, given what I've heard of the Gryffindor dorms, this might be an improvement for you."

Harry snapped. It used to take him a while to get worked up enough to start a fight, but now, it seemed all the bloody blond git had to do was open his mouth and Harry was spoiling for one.

He stepped forward, so that there chests were a bare foot apart, and snarled, "Well, at least I'm not so pampered that I spend an hour primping everyday. Tell me, what did your mother want to call you? Draconia?"

He was just a bit too slow dodging the kick aimed at his groin as an infuriated Malfoy tried to kill him. Harry grinned as the blow landed on his hip. He'd known that rumor would come in handy someday.

They fought for a few, brief moments before the door flew open and Snape stormed into the room, wand out and _"Immobilus!"_ shouted before they could even register his presence. They froze in place, Harry in a headlock and Malfoy's face contorted in pain from the hold Harry had on his ear.

Snape left them like that as he lectured. "Do you two fools think that this is a _game_? Is there anything the two of you won't fight over?" He glared at their still forms, and continued louder than before. "You have to kill the Dark Lord, Potter, or have you forgotten that fact? And yet, you persist in having these stupid, pointless fights with Mr. Malfoy! What would happen if you were recovering from a fight and the Dark Lord attacked! What would you do, Potter? Did you ever think of that?"

He paused, then- surprisingly- turned on his own student. "And you, Draco- you are no better! Why do you feel the need to box with the foolish Gryffindor like some common born Muggle? Do you have any respect left for your name? Don't you care what people think of you? Is there any reason for these foolish altercations over events that have long since passed and that you had no part in?"

Severus came to a halt, and glared at the two. "I cannot believe that after all that has been done for you, you still persist in this idiotic grudge. Grow up, get over your differences, and for all of our sakes, _stop fighting!"_

With a last glare and a wave of his wand, Snape left, robes swishing behind him. The second the door closed, the two boys were released from the spell, and they fell to the floor with twin _thunks_.

Harry picked himself up, absently offering a hand to Malfoy who, after a moment, cautiously accepted the help. He heaved the Slytherin upright, then let go and turned to look out of the windows. He heard Malfoy move over to one of the chairs, waiting a bit to see if the creaking as it accepted his weight was a prelude to collapse. However, the creaking stopped, and Harry gave a silent sigh of relief.

Abruptly he froze, wondering why on earth he'd been worried about Malfoy falling through a chair when by rights he should be hoping it happened? Harry frowned, but a cool voice interrupted him.

"Potter, I believe that lunch has arrived." Harry turned away from the window and stared in surprise at the spread before him. Cold cuts, cheese, condiments, bread and juice were arrayed on the rickety end table between the two chairs.

The Gryffindor made his way over to the empty chair, sitting and helping himself to the offering. He idly watched Malfoy as he ate, noticing the precise way he layered his meats and cheeses, put two drops of honey Dijon mustard on the bread, and laid them together. Harry snorted to himself. His sandwich was half gone already, and it had been haphazardly made to begin with.

He frowned as he recalled Snape's little speech. That bastard had no idea- not the vaguest clue- of what Harry did every day. Class had become secondary to training, and if Dumbledore decided that Harry was lacking in any little skill, the Gryffindor was pulled from class and drilled over and over in minutia that he would never need to use!

And everything had suffered as a result. His friendships had been stretched taut, and some of the bonds had already snapped. He had been told, very fiercely, by Justin that his presence was no longer required. Hell, they'd just gotten over that debacle from second year, too!

Hermione's and Ron's friendship had stayed firm, thankfully, but it too was injured by the things he couldn't tell them, like why he always fought with Malfoy, what he did when he wasn't at class, why he sometimes came back to the dorms limping or bleeding.

Something in his face must have given away what he was thinking, because a icy voice brought him back to reality.

"Sometimes the littlest things can be translated through something so insignificant as an expression. Tell me, Potter, what you find so distasteful now."

Harry sent a startled glance to Malfoy, wondering how on earth the blond could have seen something even his friends could not divine, and why the boy was watching him in the first place.

"I was thinking about Snape's speech, actually, and about how little that arrogant son of a bitch really knows about me." Harry said, a bit defiantly. Harry knew that Snape was Malfoy's Godfather, and that only had a tiny, insignificant thing to do with the Gryffindor's choice of words.

The blond raised an eyebrow, but let the insult slide. "I, too have been thinking about it. He doesn't know me half as well as he believes, if that is what he thinks would get me to reconsider my…" he cocked his head and gave a small smile, "_antipathy_… for you."

Harry snorted. "I know what you mean. Do you know, I spend most of my day learning how to kill a monster?" He held is breath, wondering how the blond would respond.

"Mmm, I had, actually. There is no other reason for you to miss so many classes and yet still have a grade to rival mine." Harry gave a sudden smile, remembering something Hermione had let slip a while ago. The main reason she disliked Malfoy so much was because no matter how hard she studied, his grades still managed to be better than hers.

"Yes, well, you seem to have been the only one to have put the pieces together in the right order. Everyone seems to think that I'm having an illicit affair with a teacher- guesses have ranged from Sinistra to McGonagall."

Harry laughed as Malfoy shuddered, and added, "That's what I did too. God, can you imagine?"

"I'd rather not, thanks all the same," came the dry reply. Malfoy heaved a sigh and stretched out, resting his elbows on the armrests and crossing his feet at the ankles.

Harry borrowed one of the blonds expressions and arched an eyebrow. "Slouching, Malfoy? Are you sure you're allowed to?"

The Slytherin's expression changed from relaxed to tense in a heartbeat. Voice blank and expressionless, he said, "I thought I had told you, Potter, that Snape's lecture was the wrong incentive to stop fighting with you. I assure you, I have had enough of people telling me what to do and how to think."

Harry wondered where that had come from. "Malfoy, chill- I was just kidding. You can slouch, I don't care. Hell, as far as I'm concerned, you can do the can-can if you want."

The blond just stared at him for a moment, Then the tension drained out of him with one long sigh. "I forget that you are not a Slytherin, and that a comment like that was not a veiled threat." He waved a hand in dismissal. "I shall try to remember that you are just a Gryffindor and therefore incapable of betrayal."

Said Gryffindor frowned. "I think I'll take that as a compliment?" he said, raising his voice to make it a question.

A slow smile slid onto Malfoy's face, and Harry wondered at the feeling in his chest. "Yes- do."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, Harry picking apart a bun as he got lost in his thoughts and Malfoy staring out of the window, a thoughtful frown marring his otherwise perfect features.

A crack rent the air, and both boys were startled from their thoughts, turning to stare in question at the house elf that had just appeared. The small creature, who Harry realized was Jillie, the house elf who took care of the Hufflepuff's, cleared the mess up and vanished without a glance at them.

Harry and Malfoy exchanged a glance- both knew that Jillie was usually falling over herself to help anyone she saw. Completely ignoring anyone was extremely uncharacteristic.

The brunet frowned as he focused his mind on the wards surrounding the room for the first time, eyes drifting shut in concentration. After a couple seconds, he'd sorted through the expected alarms and wardings, and found something hidden underneath them. His eyes popped open to see Malfoy staring at him in curiosity. Harry considered him for a moment, quashing his sudden surge of anger, and asked, "Can you do any wandless magic?"

The Malfoy Heir stared at him, then an expression of aristocratic hauteur appeared on his face. "Of course," he sneered. Harry might have said something nasty in reply, but something about Malfoy caught his attention. The blond was still reclined in his chair, posture screaming utter relaxation, and the only emotion in his voice was humor. The Gryffindor shook his head slightly and continued with his train of thought.

"Alright- take a look at the wards. I'm holding back the clouding/barrier- type ones, so you should be able to see what I'm looking at. And tell me if it's what I think it is."

Harry watched in interest as Malfoy closed his eyes and sank into his magic. It was captivating to watch the blond's magic come up around him in a silver cloud, and to feel the subtle not-scent of sandalwood waft past his face. This was one thing he loved about wandless- the things he was seeing and smelling belonged to an entirely different plane. He knew what the other Seeker had found so fascinating before.

It was mere moments later that Harry felt Malfoy's magic brush past his, and he had to control a shiver. He'd known that working wandless magic was intimate, had experienced it first hand when he was learning it, but this was so much… _more_.

As the blond prodded at the wards, being careful not to trigger them, Harry watched as silver tendrils drifted past his magic, sometimes combining then separating, and head on towards were the majority of the wards were centered. He was a little surprised to see flickers of his own magic chase after Malfoy's, flicking in and around them before darting back.

After a few minutes of examination, Malfoy pulled his magic back to his core and opened his eyes at the same time as Harry. Their eyes met, and Harry was taken aback by the look of pure fury in them. He stayed still as Malfoy exploded out of his chair in one graceful movement, stalking over to the windows and glaring out at the clouds.

The blond was silent for a few minutes before he suddenly turned and hissed, "How dare he!"

Harry snorted in agreement, his own anger slowly starting to boil. He shifted in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. "This is what I don't understand," he started out. "Dumbledore is the one who taught me wandless magic; he should have known that I would, at some point, take a look at these."

He waved a hand in Malfoy's direction, continuing, "And you! You've had the finest education money could buy since you were old enough to learn. What did that arse think he was doing?" he finished on a growl.

The blond turned and leaned against the glass, staring at Harry thoughtfully. Now that someone shared his irritation, his own anger was starting to dissipate. "Well, yes, that's all well and good but the real question is why did he think that a Blood Barrier would be appropriate in this situation?" Malfoy frowned. "And when did he get our blood?"

Harry snorted. At the blond's look his explained. "After all the fight's where we've come in covered in blood that's fairly obvious." Malfoy sneered, but looked away, conceding the point. Harry picked up on the previous train of thought. "Blood Barrier? But… this doesn't make any sense. Aren't those used to contain the criminals at Azkaban?"

"Congratulations, Potter, well done. An O for the boy," was the blond's sarcastic response. Harry sniggered a bit at that. Who would have thought that there would be a day when he found the Slytherin funny?

"I'll take the O- I'm rather short on one's I've actually earned- but that still doesn't answer my question." Harry waited to see what the blond would say.

Malfoy took a breath and let it out slowly. "It does make sense. What it means," he said quietly, "is that until we conform completely to their expectations, we will be locked in here." Malfoy turned back to the window and crossed his arms- the thought '_he looks vulnerable' _drifted through Harry's mind- and continued. "Only the creator of the Blood-Barrier can undo it."

Everything seemed to slow down for Harry. He'd been trapped, in a Tower, with someone who was his arch rival- but, he suspected, not anymore- and bound by blood? And all of this was done by someone who had sworn to protect him?

Harry stood slowly and made his way over to Malfoy, standing next to him. They both looked out over the Forbidden Forest, and an idea started to shimmer in the back of the Gryffindor's mind. He left it alone- eventually, he knew, it would make itself known.

The two of them stood together for a while, close but not touching, until the sun began to set. The crack of a house elf had come and gone a few minutes prior, but neither had made to move. Eventually, though, Malfoy stirred and jarred Harry out of his thoughts. The blond turned and walked a little stiffly over to the table, sitting in his creaky chair, and summoning one of the mugs of tea from the tray.

Harry looked at the food- mashed potatoes, corned beef and turkey, three different kinds of bread, and more- and summoned his own cup of tea. He stayed standing- Harry's knees had an interesting tendency to creak if he'd been standing to long- and sipped his tea.

Eventually, though, he finished and went into the disgusting excuse for a bedroom. He stared at the horrid colors, took in the sight of sheets that hadn't seen soap for years, and scowled. He raised his hand, magic freely flowing up his fingers, and made a slashing motion. Everything blurred, and when he could finally see it again, he sighed in satisfaction.

The sheets had been replaced with black silk, there were two down pillows, and the quilts were midnight blue down. Harry stripped out of his clothes, forgetting for a moment that Malfoy might come in at any time. Falling facedown on the bed, he struggled under the covers, realizing and not caring that it would be easier to get up and slid under instead of rolling around and trying to yank them out from under his body.

He finally got settled, and fell asleep almost instantly. It had been a long, stressful day full of unwelcome surprises, after all. However, if he had stayed awake a bit longer, he would have seen the surprise on Malfoy's face when the Slytherin walked in the room to see his bed also covered in black silks and down quilts.

… … …

_Here endeth Chapter 1. How do you like it so far?_

_MannyWitch_


	2. Chapter 2

**Title****: Working It Out (temp)**

**Summary****: Harry and Malfoy are the bane of their Professors lives. When they finally go too far, can the teachers new idea help them stop fighting? Or will it push them away?**

**Warnings****: Graphic sex, SLASH, yaoi, boy-on-boy, foul language, fighting, etc. Not for the faint of heart. What can I say? It's fun to write. *grin* manipulative!Draco, powerful!Harry, redeemable!Hermione **

**Author's Note****: I wrote this whole story when I was supposed to be finishing 'And You Thought This, Why?' the sequel to 'Um, Whoops?'. *sigh* oh well. Enjoy! Also, the Points of View switches per chapter. So, Harry, then Draco, then Harry, and so on.**

**Recap**_-_

_Harry finally got settled, and fell asleep almost instantly. It had been a long, stressful day full of unwelcome surprises, after all. However, if he had stayed awake a bit longer, he would have seen the surprise on Malfoy's face when the Slytherin walked in the room to see his bed also covered in black silks and down quilts. _

**Chapter 2- Draco POV**

Unfortunately, Sunday dawned bright and early. Draco groaned as the sun hit him square in the eyes. Squinting, he sat up and glared at the offending curtains, wondering if it was possible for material to look smug.

Motion from the other bed caught his attention, and he looked over, a small smirk forming on his lips when he saw Potter going through the same thing. Then the expression melted away when the Slytherin actually processed what he was seeing. The Gryffindor was stretched out on his stomach, covers bunched around his hips. His back was bare, and even in sleep the muscles stood out in relief.

The Slytherin looked away, throwing the covers back as he made to get up. A sound drew his attention back to Potter's side of the room, and as he watched the Gryffindor moved again, dragging a pillow from under his head and flopping it in place across his nape, arm pinning it down. He snorted, a sound that, if he were home, would have sent his mother into hysterics, and turned to find a clean shirt.

A quick look into the closet proved that the Headmaster had kept his word- at least, in one respect. All of his clothes had made it into their cell, including his two sets of formal ritual wear. He raised an eyebrow, scowling, as he realized just what this meant. The two of them would be stuck in here, just like he had told Potter. For once in his life, Draco hated that he'd been proved right.

Clearing all expression from his face, Draco reached in and pulled out the first outfit that came to hand- a charcoal grey silk button up, and black trousers. Laying those out on his bed, he reached in again and pulled out his bathroom supplies- mild shampoo, conditioner, and a lightly scented sandalwood body wash. One conjured towel later, and he walked out of the room, looking forward to being clean. He opened the second door from the day before and sniffed in disgust. The bathroom seemed to be made out of white tiles; however, age and disuse had turned them a disgusting dirty grey.

Before Draco even stepped into the room, he waved his hand and cast a strong _'Scourgify!' _at the room. Vague contempt crossed his features as the room suddenly became a sparkling white. He placed his burden on a table near the tub and checked the water, sighing as it became obvious he would have to clean the pipes before the water could start running. It seemed like this bath would require more magic than water to get him clean.

Forty five minutes later, Draco walked out of the bathroom, clean and dressed. The bath, however much magic he'd had to use to get it going properly (and he'd had to use a lot), had greatly cheered him up. He ignored the lounging form of the Gryffindor in one of the chairs, checking to make sure his expression was blank, as he walked into the bedroom and put his clothes away, something he hadn't done since he was five.

As he went to leave, something in the room caught Draco's eye. Slowly straightening from the bottom compartment of his wardrobe, he looked at the wall beyond the bed Potter had claimed for himself. He hadn't really seen it last night, he'd been too tired and upset, but the wall was a continuation of the one from the common room- one seamless sheet of glass. Unlike the outer room, this one had curtains- that Draco remembered from this morning.

He wondered at the origins of the room. Why was it created? Who had used it? Was the glass wall a part of the original construction or was it added later? These thoughts flew through his head as he walked back out in to the common room. He ignored Potter's inquisitive look in favor of his breakfast, which had again arrived with neither sound or elf, and of his thoughts.

Maybe half an hour later, Draco still had no idea what the answers to his questions might be, and mentally changed topics before he drove himself nuts. And since he didn't know how to say what he needed to say next, the Slytherin just went head and said it.

"Thank you for changing the coverings of my bed last night." he said, voice cold enough to freeze the wind. Draco continued eating his breakfast, noticing and dismissing the startled look Potter had given him. The Slytherin wondered, as he placed a grape in his mouth, what the brunet would say. Would he say, 'it was nothing'? Or something unintelligible?

However, "You're welcome," was the last thing Draco expected to hear. _Oh, dear,_ the Slytherin thought with a small smirk, _we might be on our way to more than civility. _He didn't say anything about the way Potter's eyes had landed on his lips, nor did he know that his smirk was more of a smile.

… … …

Draco watched in amusement as Potter got steadily more, well, the only word he could come up with was antsy, however much it galled him to even think it. The Gryffindor had been pacing for an hour and a half now, and the Slytherin wondered if Potter knew just how much he resembled a caged lion.

Back and forth in front of the window, getting steadily more agitated, and he couldn't take his eyes off of the Gryffindor. The Slytherin frowned at that thought, then cleared his face as Potter turned to him.

"How can you just sit there? You're so infuriatingly unaffected by this!"

Draco raised both eyebrows in a sardonic salute. He used his words as a whip, enjoying the instant attention he received. "Therein lies the difference between us, my fine Gryffindor." He ignored the brunet's look of surprise and allowed some sarcasm to creep into his voice. "While you've been using the time to get steadily more… _restless_… I have been thinking."

He made sure he had Potter's attention before continuing. "I spent most of last summer in the library of the Manor, reading." For reasons he didn't yet want the Gryffindor to know. "I was studying the origins of spells- why some were created, and why others were corrupted. One book in particular had drawn my interest, and it turned out to be a book about the origins of the protective ward.

"One of the examples they used was of the Blood Barrier. It started out as a simple warding, but was corrupted by Dark Wizards. Instead of protecting, they switched the basis of the spell around so that the ward could be used as a restraint, rather than a protection."

He shifted in his seat, leant back and went on. "It was first used in Azkaban in the early thirteenth century, under the order of the then current Minister. It's been quite popular since then as a magical restraint on felons," he finished with a twist of his lips.

Potter's eyes narrowed, a dangerous look entering them. Draco thought he looked rather attractive like that. "Felons?" the Gryffindor repeated softly. "_Felons?_"

Draco rolled his eyes, wondering if their short confinement had left Potter that stupid. "Yes," he snapped, "of course felons. What else would you use a barrier this strong on? Kittens?"

Potter ignored him, turning to face the door. "Did you happen to read anything about how to get around it?" he asked, voice tight.

Draco frowned, thinking back. He'd just gotten to that part when his Father had come into the room, and had- he cut that thought off and focused back on the question. He thought he remembered… "Yes. But this was for when the barrier was for protection, so it might not work."

Potter just glared over his shoulder at him and Draco went on. "If you could overwhelm the magic of the one who cast the barrier, it would collapse. But it seems unlikely that it would work for this particular scenario…."

He trailed off as Potter frowned in concentration. "Can you feel the Barrier around anything other than the door?" he asked.

Draco closed his eyes and felt around, seeing and dismissing the off-white line around the frame of the door. The rest of the room was protected by regular wards, and he said as much to the Gryffindor.

Potter nodded. "Whatever happens, don't worry- none of this is directed at you." Before Draco could respond to that statement, he jerked as he felt something flow across his skin, a bit like the electrical current the Muggle Studies teacher had taught them about. He felt the sensation again, stronger, and wondered what in Merlin's name was going on.

More emerald currents drifted past his skin, thicker and stronger, tugging gently on his hair and clothes until he felt like he was swimming in them. He looked up, saw with his magic that the tide of whatever-it-was was gathering around Potter, and suddenly understood- the idiot Gryffindor was going to try to overwhelm Dumbledore's magic!

He cursed as he struggled to move, Potter's magic flowing around him like molasses and keeping him in one place. He gave up soon after, though not without a growl. But not struggling gave him the opportunity to see exactly what was happening, and when he did, he went pale.

It looked as though Potter had pulled all the magic out of his core for this attempt to get free! He started struggling again, cursing desperately as he tried to get to Potter. If he could stop him, he might be able to save his life. Draco wondered vaguely if the Gryffindor knew that draining your core _would kill you_.

But he was too late- a sudden stillness in the gathered magic made him stop and look at his one time nemesis. Potter's face was composed, not one sign or trace of strain or caution on it.

Seconds later, the magic around him surged. It slammed into the white barrier with no warning, crushing the spell under the weight of it. The Barrier flared, trying to stay up, but Potter's magic wouldn't allow it to. Just as it faltered, just as Draco dared to hope that it would work, the Barrier flared again, and the white started pulsing as Dumbledore started supplying it with power.

Draco watched in horrified fascination as Potter just gave another surge with his magic. It looked almost possible when the Barrier flared yet again, this time with navy blue. For the first time, an emotion crossed the Gryffindor's face- determination. From where Draco was standing, power swirling around him, it was an awe-inspiring sight.

Another power joined the first two, a flash of red in the Barrier, but all Potter did was to just give his magic another surge. The Slytherin watched, incredulous, as Potter held his own, and was indeed winning against the combined might of three teachers. It was almost impossible for him to believe.

He struggled once more against the magic, wanting to help but not knowing how, when he noticed that Potter's power was waning seconds before a fourth person's magic appeared in the Barrier as a wave of purple. With one last surge, Potter stopped the attack. The magic in the room abruptly vanished, and Draco staggered as the pressure disappeared from all sides. He looked up, and lunged out of his chair towards Potter, catching the swaying brunet as he finally toppled.

Bringing him to the floor, he smacked the Gryffindor out of sheer relief. "You complete idiot!" he said, forgetting his mask and allowing his relief and concern to show in his voice. "You could have died, releasing your core all at once like that!"

The Gryffindor went to say something, but Draco smacked him again and said, "Shut up. Just, shut up."

He helped the blessedly silent Seeker to his feet, and together they staggered into the bedroom. After helping Potter lie down without injuring himself, Draco stood back and said, "Go to sleep. I don't want to see your face until tomorrow." He might have said more, but rolled his eyes- the idiot had already passed out.

Taking himself out of the bedroom, Draco collapsed into the first chair he came to. He leaned back with a sigh, stretching his legs out in front of him and placing his elbows on the arms of the chair, steepling his fingers. As he stared sightlessly out of the window, he found that, no matter what he might want, he couldn't help but go over Potter's attack on the Barrier. It didn't seem possible that one student could hold their own against not one, but _four_ teachers.

Draco snorted. '_Possible_' never _did _seem to concern itself with Potter. A frown crossed his face as he wondered how the idiot could still be alive after expending that much of his core. It had to have been eighty-five, ninety percent of his core magic that had been used, leaving him with only ten to fifteen percent. He'd never heard of someone surviving the use of more than seventy percent, because you needed thirty percent of your magic left, at least, for healers to rebuild your core. Potter had held no where near that amount in reserve.

Draco frowned. Hell, it was impossible to rebuilt your core with anything less than thirty percent, and even when it worked, and you lived through the procedure, your magic never recovered completely.

But why would someone willingly expend that much of their core on a Barrier that would be taken down as soon as they 'resolved their differences'? It didn't make any sense. The Gryffindor was a puzzle, alright. Draco resolved to figure him out. After all, it might be useful to have the answer to the riddle of someone like that.

… … …

Monday morning came, bringing heavy rain clouds and a sullen, dreary air with it. Draco blamed the fact that he was awake at all on the noisy Gryffindor he had to share a room with. Said Gryffindor was trying to sneak out of the room soundlessly, but was having some trouble with that. Draco understood that, however, seeing as how it was hard to walk in a straight line at all when one was recovering, however impossibly, from draining their core.

Draco sat up, and Potter stopped and gave him a wry look. "Didn't mean it wake you." he said, voice hoarse.

The Slytherin just rolled his eyes and threw back the covers. "Of course not- I mean, really, banging into walls as you walk really is the easiest way to allow your roommate extra time for sleep." he said as he pulled on a shirt from his wardrobe. He walked past the Gryffindor into the common room, a glance telling him that yes, breakfast had been delivered on time.

Potter followed him, sinking into a chair as fast as he could, trying to make it seem like he'd sat down instead of collapsing. Draco watched in amusement as he took his seat as Potter started to practically inhale the contents of the table. _Good thing I'm not hungry_, Draco thought with a smirk. He selected a cup of tea and sat back, waiting for Potter the finished filling his stomach and look up.

It took a while, but when Potter finished eating, he sat back with a sigh, only to find Draco watching him with an unreadable expression. The Gryffindor sat in silence for a while, then leaned forward with a grunt to get his own cup of tea, and Draco hid his smile behind a sip from his.

The Slytherin waited a bit, until his counterpart was settled, before asking, "Just why did you attempt to break down the Barrier yesterday?" Draco was pleased- his voice had come out as bored and cold, not curious.

He watched the other man shift before he answered. "I couldn't take not doing anything any longer, you know? And if it had just been Dumbledore, the ward would have been down in seconds."

The blond set down his cup. "True though that may be, it brings me to my next question- how on Earth could you have held your own against four teachers? How are you even alive, considering how badly you tapped your core?"

Potter frowned, and Draco thought it was probably because he'd just remembered that the person asking all of these questions had been trying to kill, or at least maim, him for years. The blond refused to go into the reasons why those feelings were gone.

But apparently, the brunet could see Draco's honest concern even behind the mask, because he answered both questions.

"I think I need to answer the last one first. That wasn't my core I tapped out- it was my ambient."

Draco was floored. How was it possible for someone to have so much ambient power floating around them? The strongest person the blond had ever studied had had only half the ambient power that Potter had displayed last night. And the fact that this power, the power that was attracted to a Wizard because of the potency of his or her magical strength, was able to defeat three teachers and hold off a fourth was astounding.

"But that means," Draco shook his head, unable to believe what he was going to ask, yet unable _not_ to, "that you didn't even touch your own reservoir of power, then."

Potter nodded. Draco gulped. After a Wizard exhausts his or her ambient power, they use their personal power, and only after that will they open their core, a thing done only in life threatening situations.

Draco frowned as another question came to him. ""If you didn't use any of your own magic, why were you so tired after you stopped?"

Potter gave a self-deprecating laugh. "I think I might have fried my channels a little after handling all that power. Going to sleep allowed my magic to heal itself."

The blond nodded slowly. It made sense, in a Gryffindor-type way.

"So, you know where I got the power from. Now for the teachers. The white was Dumbledore- the one who set the ward up. Navy blue was Snape, and if I never feel his magic on my own it'll be too soon. Red for McGonagall, and purple for Poppy."

He paused for a moment, and Draco leaned forward a bit, enthralled. "I trained with all four of them when they were teaching me wandless- but," he stopped and pinned Draco with a glare, "none of them know about my levels. They all think that I drained my core last night."

Draco nodded slowly, understanding both of the things Potter wanted from him. To keep silent about how incredibly much power he commanded, and that no one else knew about it. He was a little disturbed to discover how much he liked being trusted by the Golden Boy.

"Poppy threw me for a loop, though- I though she couldn't do offensive magic- apparently, I was wrong." Draco heard the venom in the Gryffindor's voice, heard it and saw it in his body and smiled. It seemed he was no longer enamored of his 'caretakers'.

The brunet shifted, looking out the window as gentle rain started pattering against the glass. "But it wasn't a complete waste, you know. While I had their attention focused on keeping the ward up, I sabotaged some of the other one's. Why do you think they haven't been in this room, trying to 'help me' because I tapped my core, or to lecture you for slapping me twice?"

Draco felt himself flushing, and was glad the Gryffindor wasn't watching. How could he have not thought of those things for himself? They were so obvious, too…

Potter went on, looking at the blond out of the corner of his eye. "Thanks for those, by the way. The slaps woke me up enough so I remembered to have my magic start fixing me up."

"My pleasure," Draco relied with aplomb. Potter grinned at him, then surprised himself with a yawn.

"I think I'm gonna go back to bed. Can you wake me up when lunch gets here?"

Draco nodded absently, his eyes following as Potter levered himself out of the chair and trudged towards the room. When the door closed, he turned his attention back to the window. The gentle rain from before was turning into a full scale storm, and he watched as lightening flashed over the Forbidden Forest.

A smile- a genuine, no holds barred smile- appeared on his face. From what he'd picked up as the Gryffindor spoke, there was no way in hell that after they got out of here he was coming back. If he couldn't trust the teachers, who'd sworn to protect him, and he couldn't know which, if any, of the students were snitches, he'd need at least one friend he was sure of.

Which would be Draco, of course. And that would work to both their advantages, if he played his cards right.

The storm flashed over head, and Draco watched as a bolt of lightening struck on of the other unused towers. An omen of things to come, he was sure. He got up and stretched, then moved to stand in front of the window, wishing he could open it and feel the wind and rain pound against his skin.

But he sighed and turned, heading to the bedroom. He could think of ways to influence Potter later. For now, he was tired, and a nap couldn't hurt. Maybe when he woke up, he would have an idea.

Besides, he thought with a grin, he'd never been allowed to have naps in the middle of the day at the Manor. If it was something his Father would disapprove of, then Draco was going to do it. Up to and including willfully consorting with a Gryffindor, he thought, grin changing to smirk. And if that's what he had to do to get out from under his Father's rule, then by Merlin he was going to do it.

And if anything can come from these feelings he'd started to get, then that was all well and good. After all, he thought as he stepped into the room and looked the sleeping Gryffindor over with a speculative eye, if Potter was lacking in some areas, he more than made up for it in others.

… … …

_In case it isn't clear, Draco wants to use Harry to get away from and out from under Lucious' rule. He isn't really a bad guy, just one with the wrong idea of how to Harry's sympathy. _

_Gets kinda resolved next chapter. _

_MannyWitch_


	3. Chapter 3

**Title****: Working It Out (temp)**

**Summary****: Harry and Malfoy are the bane of their Professors lives. When they finally go too far, can the teachers new idea help them stop fighting? Or will it push them away?**

**Warnings****: Graphic sex, SLASH, yaoi, boy-on-boy, foul language, fighting, etc. Not for the faint of heart. What can I say? It's fun to write. *grin* manipulative!Draco, powerful!Harry, redeemable!Hermione **

**Author's Note****: I wrote this whole story when I was supposed to be finishing 'And You Thought This, Why?' the sequel to 'Um, Whoops?'. *sigh* oh well. Enjoy! Also, the Points of View switches per chapter. So, Harry, then Draco, then Harry, and so on.**

**Recap**_-_

_And if anything can come from these feelings Draco had started to get, then that was all well and good. After all, he thought as he stepped into the room and looked the sleeping Gryffindor over with a speculative eye, if Potter was lacking in some areas, he more than made up for it in others._

**Chapter 3- Harry Potter**

Harry grimaced as he opened his eyes, whole body sore from the night before. Rolling over, he sighed as acknowledged the fact that he should really know better by now than to use so much power at once- it always, without fail, left him feeling like crap.

The dulcet tones that had woken him up called again, and this time they were a little more than annoyed. Harry grinned- it was amazing how, in just three days, Malfoy was letting emotions into his voice. With a hoarse "I'm coming!" Harry rolled out of bed and stretched, grimacing as he pulled muscles he'd forgotten would hurt.

But the smell of kippers drew him like a beacon, and he walked out of the room, stopping every now and then to stretch this muscle, to work a knot out of that one. He ignored Malfoy's hidden amusement, sitting down at the table and filling up his plate with all kinds of goodies. The reason for Malfoy's insistent calling became clear, however, when Harry saw a note addressed to him a hand he recognized.

Putting his lunch aside, Harry picked up the note and opened it, taking the letter out and reading it.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I hope you are well, given the activities of Sunday night. If you feel you are in need of medical assistance to help you recover from the draining of your core, please leave your reply on the table and it will be collected with the remains of your lunch. _

_I hope, as well, that you and Mr. Malfoy have learned your lesson about fighting. These measures, while harsh, were only taken for your own good. However, in case you have yet to overcome your differences, the ward has been doubled to prevent a repeat of Sunday nights events. _

_Severus will be up at dinner to check on the progression of your lessons and to deliver your assignments- however, I feel the need to warn you that, should you be fighting when he arrives, it will result in the loss of House points and detention when you are released._

_With hope for your good health and continued cooperation,_

_Albus Dumbledore,_

_Headmaster of Hogwarts,_

_Supreme Warlock of the Wizengammot,_

_Recipient of the Order of Merlin First Class, four times_

When he finished it, he snorted and passed it over to Malfoy, enjoying the surprise in the man's eyes. The surprise didn't last long before it was replaced with anger.

"Who does he think he is, some kind of god?" the blond hissed, and Harry grinned. He was used to the old man's manipulations, but Malfoy wasn't. "How dare he?" the blond continued, throwing the letter onto the table in disgust. "How dare he expect me to conform to anything he wishes?"

Harry cut the Slytherin off before he could continue ranting about Dumbledore.

"He thinks that he knows best, Malfoy. It's something he's always thought. I've had to put up with his crap for years, so trust me when I say I know what to do."

Malfoy turned and stared at Harry intently, and the Gryffindor wondered just what was going through his mind. Finally, however, the blond nodded. "But what the hell do you do about something like this?" he asked. Harry was astonished to hear something he'd never thought he'd hear- there was fear in Malfoy's voice- fear of being trapped, fear of being forced to do something against his will.

Harry pursed his lips. Here was a side of Malfoy the brunet had never thought existed. And suddenly, all those random comments, said with forced calm, made sense. When he said that Snape had the wrong argument, about respect for his name, about what others think- suddenly, it all made sense.

"You're seventeen, Malfoy, right?" The blond looked startled for a moment, then nodded. "Then why can't you just leave? You're of age, you're powerful magically, I'll bet you have an account in another country. You don't have to stay if you don't want, you don't have to let someone rule your life for you." Harry stopped talking, because he didn't want Malfoy to choke on his own tongue.

When Malfoy could speak, he said, "How do you- I mean, what are you talking about?"

Harry gave a harsh laugh. "How do I know what I'm talking about?" he said, ignoring Malfoy's other statement. "Because I go through the same thing here that you do at home, Malfoy. 'Don't be nice to Slytherin's, they're evil.' 'Kill Voldemort before he kills you, Harry.' 'Death Eaters are evil scum who willfully agree with what they're forced to do.' 'There are no other sides.' 'Us or them, Harry, us or them.'

"I'll bet your getting something similar at home, Blondie. 'The Dark Lord is the only true Lord.' 'Muggles and Mudbloods are pimples on the ass of society.' 'All Light Witches and Wizards are blood traitors who deserve to die, Draco.' 'There is no other way.' 'Us or them, Draco, us or them.'"

Harry leaned forward as he stared at Malfoy, face turning serious. "Same shit from both sides, Malfoy, and they're both wrong. Both sides have good points, both sides have bad points." He waved his hand between Malfoy and himself, saying, "And we're the ones who're going to have to pay. Either way we decide, nothing will ever be good enough."

His voice got low. "So trust me when I say I know what I'm talking about."

Malfoy hissed at Harry. "Yes, but what happens if out little Golden Boy fails to live up to expectations, hmmm? Do you fear getting murdered in your sleep, eaten by a familiar, killed by your own parent in disgust? Do you?" the blond demanded. "Have you any idea what it's like to not be able to trust the family you were born into because they are all vassals of a psychotic, snake-loving, nose-less monster? _Do you?_"

Harry was silent, but that didn't stop Malfoy. "I envy you your dead parents, Potter. I really do. You at least can have the illusion they were good people, no matter the opinions of others."

Harry shifted a bit, drawing the blond's attention back to the Gryffindor before the Slytherin could continue his rant. "I'm sorry, alright? I didn't know how bad things were for you."

Malfoy took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Apology accepted." Another deep breath, and he continued, "And you were right about the rest of it. All of the rest of it, though I would like to know how you found out about my account."

Harry grinned. "I have my sources, and I know you have yours. So, unless we're gonna swap them…" Harry grinned as Malfoy shook his head, smile on his face.

The blond settled back in his chair, eyes half hooded as he said, "So, since we are in such a sharing, forgiving mood…" he quirked an eyebrow, and Harry signaled for him to go on.

"There is something I should tell you. I was…_tempted_ to use you as a way to avoid any further confrontations with my Father."

Harry laughed. "In case you hadn't noticed, Malfoy, I enjoy seeing your father out of sorts. So go ahead- I don't care. I actually have to confess I was thinking the same thing."

Malfoy laughed, and Harry stared. It was the first, honest-to-goodness real laugh he'd yet heard from the other man, and it was captivating. Still chuckling, Malfoy leaned forward and said, "So, we shall be co-conspirators, then?"

Harry nodded. His tongue was too busy trying to stay in his mouth to bother with words right now.

"Lovely. So, how shall we reply to this travesty of a letter, then, my dear Gryffindor?"

The Gryffindor swallowed, trying to remember how to think. "Um," he said, then went on before Malfoy could say anything about his articulation. "We need to screw with his head. So this is what we're going to do…"

… … …

Snape arrived with their dinner, as promised, and handed each of them a stack of paper before scowling and saying. "Well? Have the two of you learned your lesson yet?"

Harry and Malfoy just glared at him from opposite sides of the room. The Potions Master sneered and went on. "The Headmaster wanted me to check on your core, you idiot boy. He seems convinced that you irrevocably injured yourself by that little stunt you pulled on Sunday."

He made to go over to Harry, but the Gryffindor pulled away before Snape could get near him. "Don't touch me!" he spat, twisting away from the man's seeking magic.

Snape grinned, a scary expression on the spy, and pulled his magic away. "Just what dear Albus suspected. You injured your core, Potter." The grin was replaced by a dark look, one that even Malfoy shrank away from.

"Are you mentally incapacitated?" he hissed. "Do you not see what this means?" he paced back and forth as he warmed up to his subject, not seeing the glances exchanged between a grinning Harry and smug Malfoy. The git was playing right into their hands.

"Defeating Voldemort was going to be a trial for you even when you were at full strength, foolish boy! Now that you've managed to injure yourself, it might be almost impossible!" He rounded on the two seventh years, face ferocious. "When you finally decide to grow up and behave like adults instead of children, the Headmaster has an idea that might help your magic grow back to where it once was."

He turned his eyes on Malfoy, and Harry almost felt sorry for the blond. "And you!" he spat, incensed. "Don't think that you are not to blame for this. I know you goaded him into such a ridiculous action! I can't believe that such a scheming, evil little boy is related to me in any fashion. You disgust me, and dishonor your name with this. Trust me when I say your Father will learn of this incident."

He turned on his heel and headed for the door, stopping with his hand on the knob. "And as a punishment, the two of you, no matter what the Headmaster might want, will be in here for another week!" With those words, Snape yanked the door open, then slammed it behind him.

Harry looked at Malfoy, wondering what was going on in the other man's head. When wintry eyes turned to meet his, Harry grinned. Seems Snape had pushed the wrong buttons even harder this time.

"That went well," the Slytherin said coldly. "Do you think a week is enough time for them to believe we have changed?"

Harry grinned. "Yep." he said cheerfully. "Dumbledore doesn't think I'm capable of disobeying him for that long, and you should be cowed by the mention of your Father. I think we're good."

Malfoy laughed. "I rather think we are anything but good, just now, Potter. In fact, I rather believe you and I are about to start a revolution."

Harry's smile got wider, and he leaned back in his chair with a sigh as he released the power he had kept hidden from Snape. It swirled around him briefly before settling back into it's usual places. It was hard, but he ignored the way Malfoy's eyes followed the eddies of his magic.

Malfoy continued. "Now that we have the time, and we know no other teachers are going to bother us, have you given any thought to getting out of here?"

Harry's smile became a light frown as he thought about the question. True, they would be getting released in a week, but he wouldn't be able to stand more than a couple more days of confinement. It brought too strongly to mind the days before Hogwarts.

"Well, we know the door is out. There are no other exits, and the house elves ignore us, so we can't ask them. I've never heard of this room before-" a shake of Malfoy's head revealed that he hadn't, either, "and somehow I doubt that a patronus could leave the wards."

The blond sighed. "That really helps, Potter, thank you for the summary of what we _cannot _do."

"Have you any suggestions, then, Malfoy?"

The Slytherin shrugged, and they both turned to their dinner. When they had finished the mouthwatering selection before them, they both turned to look out the window, ignoring the mountain of homework in front of them. The setting sun painted the room in shades of reds and gold's, and Harry watched the blond out of the corner of his eye.

Malfoy was awash in color, and even though his clothes were in subtle shades of grey, the setting rays of the sun didn't seem to care. His skin was a warm caramel, his hair turned to molten gold with streaks of silver. Harry looked away, flushing, trying to erase those images from his minds eye. They led to a longing to see what color the sun would turn the rest of his skin, and that just wouldn't do.

He got up and headed in the bedroom, gathering up his sleepwear and a towel before going to the bathroom. Surely a shower would clear his mind. But when he opened the door and saw the room, he swallowed. Of course Malfoy would change the shower to a sunken green striped marble tub, of course the faucets would be gleaming silver, of course all the blond's bath gear would be arrayed along the rim of the tub.

Harry shut the door behind himself before stripping and turning on the water. It rushed out of the tap, and since Harry didn't have any bubble bath of his own, he used a little of Malfoy's. The steam became lightly scented with sandalwood, and Harry stifled a groan. A bath was supposed to relax you, but he didn't think this one was going to.

He stepped into the tub and sank into the bubbles, submerging himself, shaking his head to get his hair nice and soapy. He scrubbed himself raw, trying to scrub out the images in his head. It didn't work. With a sigh he got up and pulled the plug, then turned the faucet back on and washed the bubbles off of him.

He stepped out of the tub and dried off, deliberately thinking about Hagrid and Snape, then got dressed. When he left the bathroom after spelling the scent out of the air, he didn't see Malfoy's amused expression as the scent of sandalwood drifted off the Gryffindor. He just went straight to bed.

… … …

Harry woke up promptly at four the next morning, rolling out of his bed and reaching for his Quidditch robes. When all his hand hit was air, however, he finally bothered to open his eyes and look around. It took a minute for it to click, but when he realized where he was, the Gryffindor scowled.

_Bloody Headmaster_, he mentally growled. As if getting stuck in this cell wasn't bad enough, now he was going to miss Tuesday practice as well!

But he was up, now, and there would be no more sleep for him in the near future. So he got up and quietly made his way out of the room, glancing over at Malfoy to see if he'd woken. The blond was sound asleep, though, and Harry paused for a moment at the door, ensnared by the sliver glow of moonlit skin.

Harry turned and bolted. When he reached the common room, he sagged against the wall, caught in a web of images questions by his imagination. He'd only seen the tops of the other man's shoulders- would his back gleam as brightly? Is his skin as soft and inviting as it looked? Would a hint of sandalwood cling to his skin, or would he have a different scent?

The Gryffindor shook himself, trying to get the images supplied by those questions out of his head. However, it wasn't working, so Harry turned to his old tried and true- he started working out. After spelling everything he could think of silent, after conjuring sweats and a towel, he stretched and began his Quidditch warm up routine.

Sit ups, jumping jacks, three different kinds of push ups, lunges and squats were the first things on the menu, then he changed to a kickboxing routine and spent a while fighting an imaginary foe. Next he turned to his Auror training, and started the intricate footwork and fighting dances he'd learned from, of all people, Shacklebolt.

After that, he did a cool down, stretched some more, than charmed a bit of the floor to move, just like a muggle treadmill, except it responded to you and not the other way around. He was still running when Malfoy walked out of the bedroom, looking, of course, perfectly put together.

The blond said something, but Harry couldn't hear him. Then he remembered that he had the silencing spells up and waved them away with a wry grin, hopping off the 'treadmill' and ending the spell.

"Exactly how long have you been awake?" Malfoy asked curiously.

Harry snatched his towel off the back of a chair, wiping off his face and chest as he said, "Four. Why?" He grinned a little when he realized the blond was giving him a once over.

When Malfoy finished his perusal, he twisted his lips into a smirk. "What an ungodly hour of the morning. Tell me, have you been torturing yourself for two hours?"

"Yep. Although I wouldn't call it torture, per se…" he grinned at the Slytherin's look of disgust. "Since I rather enjoy it."

"Well, each to his own, I suppose," was the doubtful reply.

Harry was going to say more, but breakfast arrived, and all thought not centered on _feed me, feed me!_ was banished.

As they ate, Harry noticed that Malfoy kept looking at him with something close to astonishment in his eyes. Prompted, he figured, by the enormous amount of food he was eating. He figured the blond was so shocked was because he hadn't seen Harry at breakfast recently. He usually did a hell of a lot more than that with the Aurors in the morning- Harry was actually feeling a bit guilty about slacking off.

But he shrugged. It wasn't like they really cared, or else they'd have convinced Dumbledore to let him go by now. He scowled. _Bastards_.

Malfoy had been finished eating for a few minutes when Harry finally sat back with a sigh. Really, the food here was excellent. As if following his thoughts, Malfoy sneered in repulsion.

"I can't believe we have to eat this poor excuse for food every day. The meals at home are far better prepared than this."

Harry lifted an eyebrow. "I was actually thinking this food was excellent. The way you describe food from the Manor, it must be orgasmic." Harry flushed as soon as the word left his mouth. He just hoped Malfoy didn't say anything…

"Well, then." _Oh crap. Here we go. _"I must invite you over for dinner some time. If the fare there is excellent, then the dessert," he paused, and looked Harry straight in the eye, "is _superb_."

Harry almost choked. No fucking way did Malfoy just make an innuendo. Did he?

Harry lurched out of his chair, mumbling something about sweat and showers, and fled into the bedroom. Shutting the door behind him, he dropped onto the bed and buried his head under the pillow. It was starting to get futile, trying to shove images out of his head, so he distracted himself by getting up and gathering his shower supplies.

'Gryffindor' was almost synonymous with bravery to most people, so it would have been a shock to them to see Harry sneak from the bedroom to the bathroom, feet silenced, eyes peeled for any motion from Malfoy.

But the same dilemma from yesterday stopped him in his tracks again today- the bathtub. He shut his eyes in frustration, wondering if it was worth it to just run outside and jump the blond, right now. Eventually deciding that it wasn't, he opened his eyes on a sigh, then gulped.

Sometimes, his magic did things without asking his permission. This seemed to be one of those times. The tub was gone, replaced with a large shower stall, replete with black tiles and brass faucets. The doors on the stall were glass, and Harry gulped, then firmly pushed the mental image from his head. He did not need to deal with that right now.

So he showered, and dressed, then took one look at the stall and decided to leave it as it was. Let Malfoy be the one with the bathroom surprise this time.

When he walked out of the bathroom, he expected some comment about food, or another innuendo. What he did not expect was to see Malfoy sitting in the same spot, gazing out of the window.

"Potter," he drawled, and Harry felt a tingle run up his spine. How much worse would it be if the blond said his first name? "I have a rather rude two questions to ask you."

Harry took his seat, flinging his towel over the back and helping himself to some tea. "Sure, but I reserve the right to not respond." he warned.

The Slytherin just waved a hand. "Are you an animagus?"

Harry slowly lowered his tea cup. "Depends. Are you going to tell anyone?"

Malfoy pinned him with a glare. "Don't be deliberately more dense than nature made you, Potter. Of course not."

The brunet snorted. "Well, then yes, I am."

Attention already back out the window, Malfoy just nodded. "Secondly, does your form have wings?"

Uneasy with the line of questioning, and knowing it was going somewhere, Harry simply nodded.

"Lovely. Potter," he said, and the tone of his voice drew all of the Gryffindor's attention, "I think I have a way out of here."

… … …

_Ahhhhh! *runs and hides* don't kill the author, or you'll never know what happens next!_

_Unless you already figured it out, in which case, feel free to try and find me._

_Oh, guess what- Harry season opens next chapter, and Draco is the only one with a license. *squee!!!*_

_MannyWitch_


	4. Chapter 4

**Title****: Working It Out (temp)**

**Summary****: Harry and Malfoy are the bane of their Professors lives. When they finally go too far, can the teachers new idea help them stop fighting? Or will it push them away?**

**Warnings****: Graphic sex, SLASH, yaoi, boy-on-boy, foul language, fighting, etc. Not for the faint of heart. What can I say? It's fun to write. *grin* manipulative!Draco, powerful!Harry, redeemable!Hermione **

**Author's Note****: I wrote this whole story when I was supposed to be finishing 'And You Thought This, Why?' the sequel to 'Um, Whoops?'. *sigh* oh well. Enjoy! Also, the Points of View switches per chapter. So, Harry, then Draco, then Harry, and so on.**

**Recap**_-_

_Uneasy with the line of questioning, and knowing it was going somewhere, Harry simply nodded._

"_Lovely. Potter," Malfoy said, and the tone of his voice drew all of the Gryffindor's attention, "I think I have a way out of here."_

**Chapter 4- Draco Malfoy**

Draco watched as Potter went on point, looking a bit like a hound who just sighted a rabbit. An evil grin slid onto his face without his permission as he contemplated making the Gryffindor guess, but he banished both thought and expression with a sigh.

He gestured to the window. "Look at the glass, _without_ using your eyes."

Potter frowned, but did as he was told, shutting his eyes. Draco inhaled sharply as he felt the brunet's magic flow past him, moving like a caress across his cheek. He shook his head sharply to clear it. If he was going to explain this to Potter, he was going to need, among other things, a clear head.

A shiver flitted through the magic still resting against Draco's face right before it was withdrawn back into the other man. His eyes opened, and there was confusion in those bottle green orbs.

The Slytherin grinned. "You didn't see it." Potter shook his head, and Draco's grin widened. "It took me a while to realize, as well."

He turned and pointed at the window, saying, "What did you see?"

Potter just shrugged. "I saw a shitload of wards, lots of anti-falling-out-of-windows spells, and a couple standard break-me-not spells." He paused thoughtfully before adding, "And a see-me-not, too, actually."

Draco couldn't help it. Although it was very Hufflepuff-ish of him, he actually felt proud of the man. Not many wizards, experienced and adult, would have seen the spell to make the room invisible to outside eyes.

But he continued. "Precisely. Now, what _didn't _you see?"

Potter growled, a sound that made one silken eyebrow fly into Draco's hairline. _It really is too bad that this is neither the time or the place_, the blond thought with regret.

But all he said was, "Now, now, Potter, don't get pissy. What you can't see, because it isn't there, is the Blood Barrier."

He watched the Gryffindor's face blank in surprise. Then a rush of magic passed him again, and this time it conducted a much more thorough search.

"Okay, so this means what, exactly?" the brunet asked as he retracted his magic.

Draco sighed. Brunets, the lot of them. Honestly. "It means that this is the one barrier we can pass."

Potter grinned, and Draco found himself caught in the Gryffindor's enthusiasm, grinning along with him. It was rather disturbing. Then he watched as a slightly chagrined expression eased onto the brunets face.

"I can't believe I forgot about this!" he exclaimed.

Draco chuckled. "Honestly, I had as well. It was only as I was looking for another route out of this," he paused, then added distastefully, "_place_ that I remembered about the absence of the Barrier." He waited a beat, then added snidely, just so Potter remembered that Draco was not a nice person, "Of course, the fact that you missed this says quite a bit about the way Gryffindors think, doesn't it?"

Instead of the scowl he was used to, a slight grin flashed across Potter's face. The expression went straight to the blond's… _head_, and he had to clear his throat before continuing. "Back to our conversation," he said before glaring at Potter. "Now, here's the thing-"

He got cut off by the Gryffindors mutter of "There's always a thing, isn't there."

Draco glared at the brunet and continued. "I know how to break, subvert, or evade all of these spells. Unfortunately, I don't have the power."

He watched the Gryffindor's expression. He might have fibbed a little it- he did have the knowledge, that was true, and he did have the power to mold these spells. The thing was, he didn't have the power to do it all at the same time. He would have to tinker with them one at a time, and that would give what they were trying right away. These spells all needed to be altered at the same time, _and_ he needed to erect a pretty powerful concealment charm to keep them looking the same as they always were.

Potter shrugged, and said, much to Draco's astonishment- "I have more than enough power. I can channel it to you, if that would work."

The blond could barely hide his surprise. This was what he would have had to ask Potter, and he hadn't been certain what the Gryffindor's reaction would be. Now he didn't have to worry, thank Merlin.

"We will need to be touching." he said abruptly, deciding to get the most awkward bit of it all over with.

Potter nodded. "Okay, I've done that before. Wha-"

He was cut off by Draco's sharply waved hand. "You misunderstand me. We need to be touching, skin to skin, for this to work." The brunet sucked in a deep breath, and Draco fully understood why. Most transfers could be done with a simple mind channel, no touching required. For more advanced ones, a hand on the shoulder was more than enough.

For what they were planning, he was going to need to be hand in hand, maybe more, with Potter, or else he wouldn't have a large enough, continuous enough supply of magic. It was kind of like dipping your finger into the top of a glass versus jumping into a swimming pool, actually. Like he'd said, it was going to take a lot of power to pull this off at once.

Potter exhaled, then nodded slowly. "Sure. Alright. Um, you're positive?"

Draco nodded. "Quite." He knew it was a lot to ask, mainly because Potter needed to fully let the blond use his magic.

Potter sighed, then said, "When do we start?"

"As soon as possible."

… … …

Draco studied the window, wondering what the best approach to this would be. There were several way to approach this, but which one to chose…?

He felt Potter come up behind him. "Well, I'm as ready as I'll ever be." The Gryffindor said heavily. Draco didn't blame him for sounding so bleak. It was a big thing to ask, to have the Gryffindor so fully trust someone who had been his rival for so many years.

And there was quite a bit to worry about, as well. If, for one millisecond, his trust in Draco wavered, the Gryffindor's magic would turn on Draco as an invader and, in the best case, fry his channels until he was no better than a squib.

He did not want to think about the worst case scenario. But there was an even greater danger for Potter- and it took the shape of Draco. The blond had to watch himself very carefully. If he allowed himself to use that power so willingly handed to him, allow himself to misuse the trust placed in him, he might not be able to stop, and could irrevocably damage Potter.

Doubtless Potter knew that, too. Dumbledore would have drilled it into him during their practices.

The blond turned to face the Gryffindor, and raised an eyebrow at the sight before him. A shirtless Potter shifted from foot to foot, looking at Draco defiantly.

"I wasn't sure how much skin to skin you'd need." Came the hostile reply to the Slytherin's look.

Draco just nodded, pushing several images deep into his subconscious. He'd soon be sharing magic and thoughts with the brunet- he did _not _need the other man to see those fantasies.

Draco walked towards the chair, casually unbuttoning his shirt as he did so. When he reached it, he pulled it off by it's sleeves and tossed it onto the rickety wood, careless of it's value.

He turned to see Potter's eyes glued to his chest. _I love, I simply adore, Quidditch_, Draco thought, hiding a smile.

He beckoned the other man over to him, and Potter came to stand by his side as he tried to decide where they needed to be for this. It wasn't required that they actually be in the same room as the wardings- it did, however make it easier to manipulate them if he was physically close.

But there didn't seem to be anywhere in this tiny room where the two of them would be able to maintain contact. Draco turned, huffing, to look at Potter.

The brunet just laughed at him, then waved his hand. A large cushion appeared on the floor, snug in a corner with the window on one side, and a wall on the other.

Draco glared in disgust at the Gryffindor, but before he could say anything, the smug buffoon had already sat down.

The Slytherin scowled and copied him. "If you tell anyone that I sat on the floor…"

He let the sentence trail off, and Potter nodded. "Then my life is forfeit. I got it." Before Draco could reply to that, Potter reached out a hand, palm up, and said, "Ready?"

Still scowling, Draco reached out and placed his hand in Potter's. It was awkward, but they eventually ended up with their fingers interlaced.

The blond pushed the symbology of their hands out of his mind and concentrated on the wards. He knew with in seconds that he wouldn't have access to enough power if they stayed the way they were.

He shifted closer, so that their arms were brushing, ignoring Potter's sharp breath and sudden tension. Still not enough.

Draco growled, then untangled his fingers from Potter's hand and wrapped that arm around the Gryffindor's shoulder, placing his other hand on the other man's thigh. He reached out, and almost crowed in glee. Finally! Now he could channel enough power.

He started by slowly reaching out, placing an gentle feeler on each of the individual wards. When he finished, he was shocked to see dozens of strands stretching out from the two men.

Draco turned back to Potter, and almost growled again. What he'd thought was a large enough tap into the brunet's power wasn't going to be able to supply enough power! Draco was reaching to pull the feelers back into themselves when Potter shifted.

The Slytherin froze- didn't the idiot know better than to move? But apparently, the idiot either didn't know or didn't care, because he leaned over, wrapped his arms around the startled blond, and yanked him onto his lap. Draco was shocked stiff. Of all the inappropriate moves…!

But Potter must have known what he was thinking, because he leaned forward and whispered into Draco's ear, "I knew you weren't getting enough power. That's why you're where you are."

Draco frowned. The Gryffindor wasn't making any sense. But he sighed, ignored what his rear end was pressing into, and turned back to the link between the two. And his eyes popped wide open.

He must have just been tapping the brunet's ambient power before, because it was nothing, _nothing_ like this. Using his magic as his eyes, he peered over the edge of Potter and into an endless volcano, full to the brim with emerald lava. He looked into Potter's eyes, and saw a fear in their depths. _I'll figure that out later,_ he thought as he sent the Gryffindor a dazzling smile, one the other man returned hesitantly.

Now he had enough power to completely subjugate the wards. Draco settled himself in Potter's lap, enjoying the deep breath that pushed the brunet's chest into his back. He went to work.

Because all of his knowledge about this kind of thing was learned out of books and not from practice, Draco went very slowly. The first thing he did was cast a concealment spell on all the wards he was tampering with, then he meticulously untied and rebound the wards to himself and Potter. Some of them, like the ward against falling out of windows, he made specific only to their human forms. For their animagus forms, that ward didn't exist anymore. After he did that, he concentrated on the rest of the wards, breaking and molding and changing as he saw fit.

When he finished with the one's the Headmaster had put in place, he added a few wards that would need to be activated later. Strong wards to keep anyone from finding the room unless they were invited, wards to turn the glass to mist when Potter or Draco neared it in their animagus forms, wards to keep Professors from finding this room ever again.

He blinked his eyes open as he released his hold on Potter's magic. It slid out of him like a sigh, gently and soft. Draco stretched, then turned his attention to his core and found, to his surprise, that it hadn't been touched. Neither had his ambient. He turned to Potter for an explanation.

As he turned, though, he realized something- there were arms wrapped around his waist. Strong, golden tanned arms. Draco blushed, only then guessing how tired this whole ordeal had made him. He only blushed when truly exhausted.

When he finally looked at Potter, though, an annoyed huff left his chest. The buffoon was asleep! _Who falls asleep when someone is draining magic out of them? _he asked himself imperiously. And as soon as the Gryffindor woke up, he'd ask him, too!

But for right now, there was a warm chest against his back, arms holding him securely in place, and warm breath gently ruffling the hair on the back of his neck. He was only going to close his eyes for a moment…

… … …

There was sun in Draco's eyes. He blinked, and shifted, pulling away from the seeking rays and snuggling into the warmth at his side. _The warmth at my side? What…?_ Draco rolled over and froze.

Potter just smiled at the blond. Draco just closed his eyes. When he reopened them, he was about to demand that Potter move his ignoble Gryffindor hide away from his aristocratic Slytherin one, but two things stopped him. One, he didn't think threats like that were anything more than amusing to the Gryffindor now, and two, something on the brunet's stomach caught his eye.

Around his belly button (_nice, flat belly_, Draco thought appreciatively), was a tattoo of a sun in glory. Suddenly, what Potter had said before made sense. Potter had purposefully placed Draco directly on top of the insignia marking the center of his power.

The Slytherin ignored Potter's amused eyes as he pushed the Gryffindor down and into the light so he could see the rest of the details.

The tattoo was large- four, maybe five inches in diameter. Draco leaned closer. A regular insignia like this one only appeared on powerful wizards in black ink (for witches, it was the symbol of the waxing, full and waning moons). The complexity and color of the design, however, was what denoted the power of the person it was on.

Potter had a full range of colors on his. Sapphire blue closest to the center, turning into ice blue which led into red and orange, ending with a sun bright yellow. And that wasn't all. There were swirls and dips, symbols and runes hidden in the colors, an impression of faces in the areas where the color collided.

Draco cursed. Potter chuckled.

"You bastard. You couldn't tell me before all this that you're a bloody, a fucking…" he waved his hand, trying and failing to find the words.

The Gryffindor shrugged. "It's been so well ingrained in me to not tell anyone about it that I hadn't even occurred to me that you might like or need to know."

Draco sneered. "I should hope so. If Dumblefuck knew about that marking, you'd have never been allowed out of his sight or away from his control. Fuck."

"How very succinct of you, Malfoy. I like the new nickname, though. Fits very well."

The Slytherin preened a little. Then he pinned Potter with an icy glare and said, "How long have you known?"

"Since the summer after third year. I completely freaked out." Potter said with a chuckle. "I owled my godfather. Not five minutes after, he'd floo'd in, scaring the shite out of my Guardians. Thank Merlin for him. Else I might have gone to Dumbledore."

Draco shuddered and gestured for the brunet to go on.

"Anyway, he told me what it was, how to hide it, and all the important things like how to avoid revealing how much power I now possessed. Then he said, 'You're Mum would be so proud that you inherited this from her, you know.'" He paused, and Draco waited patiently.

"She had one, you see. The three moons, but hers, he said, you could see each dimple on their faces, could almost believe they were popping right off of her stomach they looked so real. Dumbledore doesn't know about hers, either."

A wicked grin graced Potters face, and Draco stopped breathing. Who had known that the last rays of the setting sun would turn Potter into a living, breathing warm bronze statue?

"He told me some of the things she used to do to him when he'd been picking on Snape, though. My Mum was fierce, Malfoy." he said on a laugh.

Draco blinked, trying to clear his mind. He settled back on his haunches and waved a hand, bringing two low lamps into existence, now that the sun was nearly gone.

"As lovely as all this reminiscing about childhood jaunts with criminals is," he said, ignoring Potter's snort, "there is one thing that started bugging me as I was playing with the wards." He paused, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Sunday night, you said that you had tampered with the wards a bit. You made it seem like the teachers couldn't enter the rooms at all, but Snape came in here just fine yesterday. Why, pray tell?"

Potter lips curved up into a smirk. "I wrapped my magic around the wards on the door- to the teachers on Sunday night, they probably thought it was a defensive mechanism to keep them away from my core. But over the course of the next couple of hours, my spells sank into the wards and corrupted them to respond to me.

"The teachers think that the spells have worn off, when in reality, they've just stopped wasting magic on being visible. I allowed Snape in yesterday to keep up the charade."

Draco lowered his eyelids at the explanation, hiding behind his lashes as he thought. The sheer amount of power it would take to have spells like that was almost inconceivable. Really- who'd ever heard of spells _wasting_ power on being visible? More usually, they waste power trying to be _in_visible.

He looked at Potter. The man was stretched out across the pillow, earlier shyness about his shirtless state gone. Draco followed the lines of his muscles with his eyes, traced the curve of one to the waistband of his pants. Absently, not really caring about the answer, he said, "And what about your tattoo? Why can I see it now?"

The Gryffindor's voice was hoarse when he answered. "I think it's because you were submerged in my magic for so long- I might never be able to hide anything from you again, now." he added, only slightly jokingly.

Draco nodded. He'd just had an evil idea, and being who he was, felt the need to try it.

Leaning forward, across Potter, he snagged the tray full of dinner that he'd just noticed. Of course, he was careful to tense his muscles as he picked it up, and was rewarded by a sudden stillness from below him.

Settling it onto the pillow, he picked up a bunch of grapes and said "Go on," before popping it into his mouth.

"Um, ah, Sirius also taught me how to, to…" he trailed off as Draco licked a trail up his finger to catch all the juice from the fruit.

"how to become an animagus, too. He had such great stories about his school years, and he told most of them to me. Oh! There was this one time when he and…"

Draco tuned him out. He just wanted Potter to get back into the flow of his story before he distracted him some more.

When he judged the brunet sufficiently 'back in the flow', he picked up a chicken wing and blew on it gently, before sinking his teeth into it. Potter's narrative stuttered and died as he just gave up and watched the blond eat.

Which Draco perfectly alright with- he enjoyed being the center of attention. So he continued his meal in silence, while Potter pushed himself up onto his elbows to get a better view. The Slytherin deliberately did _not _peek below the Gryffindor's belt- he felt it would be cheating. Of course, the way he was eating could also be construed as cheating, but to Draco, it was all part of the game.

He wiped his hands on a napkin when he finished, finally looking directly at Potter. The man's face was flushed, his lips were slightly parted, and his chest was rising and falling faster than it should have, seeing as how he was 'at rest'.

Placing the napkin aside, he rose on to his knees and leaned closer to Potter, weight resting on his hands. With a muttered "Good night," he brushed his lips against the Gryffindor's. Before he pulled back, he felt Potter turn his head slightly, into the kiss.

Draco grinned as he stood up, turning and walking away. He wondered what was going on in Potter's head right now.

… … …

_Ohhh, the smut starts! Just a warning- the naughty words arrive at the very beginning of the next chapter. I'm not sure if they're permanent guests or what, but you were warned. _

_Ta!_

_MannyWitch_


	5. Chapter 5

**Title****: Working It Out (temp)**

**Summary****: Harry and Malfoy are the bane of their Professors lives. When they finally go too far, can the teachers new idea help them stop fighting? Or will it push them away?**

**Warnings****: Graphic sex, SLASH, yaoi, boy-on-boy, foul language, fighting, etc. Not for the faint of heart. What can I say? It's fun to write. *grin* manipulative!Draco, powerful!Harry, redeemable!Hermione **

**Author's Note****: I wrote this whole story when I was supposed to be finishing 'And You Thought This, Why?' the sequel to 'Um, Whoops?'. *sigh* oh well. Enjoy! Also, the Points of View switches per chapter. So, Harry, then Draco, then Harry, and so on.**

**Recap**_-_

_Placing the napkin aside, he rose on to his knees and leaned closer to Potter, weight resting on his hands. With a muttered "Good night," he brushed his lips against the Gryffindor's. Before he pulled back, he felt Potter turn his head slightly, into the kiss._

_Draco grinned as he stood up, turning and walking away. He wondered what was going on in Potter's head right now._

**Chapter 5- Harry Potter**

Harry swallowed as he watched Malfoy walk away, lifting a hand to touch his lips. _Oh, Merlin_, he though. He pulled his fingers from his lips and thumped back into the pillow. His cock felt like fucking steel from watching the blond eat. Harry snorted. As if you would call what he was doing _eating_. Molesting his food might be a better way of saying it.

The Gryffindor sighed. At least now he didn't have to keep suppressing all those images, or worry about the Slytherin's reaction if he'd let any hint of them slip. From what had just happened, the blond might well enjoy the attention!

But there was no way in hell he was going into that room tonight. Not with temptation asleep in a bed five feet away from him, anyway! He just didn't have that kind of will power.

Speaking of which… he slid a hand into his pants, almost crying when he touched himself. Because there was no way he was going to be able to sleep with the erection of his life demanding attention.

It was over in a matter of seconds, something that would have concerned Harry, had he not spent the whole time he was watching Malfoy resisting the urge to come in his pants. But hell- the best orgasm of his life had come, not from actually having sex, but from the memory of silver eyes smiling at him slyly.

As Harry cleaned himself up, he wondered, if he actually did anything with Malfoy, would it be as good as what had just happened? Or would it be better? Of course, that line of thought led to another erection, and as Harry stroked himself, he let his imagination run wild. In the back of his head, he wondered just how many times he'd be able to come from the memory of a smile, and some baseless fantasies. Three? Or maybe four?

… … …

When he woke up the next morning, Harry thanked Merlin that he'd had the presence of mind to clean the air and, well, _everything_ of every little trace of anything even remotely resembling a one person smut fest. Because Malfoy was sitting in his chair, idly sipping a cup of tea, and watching Harry like a hawk.

Harry sat up, rolling his shoulders to get the kinks out of them. "Sleep well, Potter?" came the cool voice. Harry was glad that he knew the blond a lot better now, because hearing that voice, even a week ago, after a smut fest like last night's would have shamed him.

Now he just grinned, hearing the amusement and slight trace of lust in the voice, and said, "Yeah, thanks. You?"

The blond grinned into his cup of tea as he said, "Yes. My bed is rather comfortable, which I have you to thank for, remember?"

Harry almost swallowed his tongue. With Malfoy, it was what wasn't said that was as important as what was, and the blond had pretty much just admitted to not sleeping at all. Or if he had, he'd done it to dreams of Harry.

The brunet stood, banishing the pillow, changing his pants and adding a shirt with a wave of his hand. Harry wondered if Malfoy realized that his eyes were glued to the Gryffindor's stomach, if he knew they were glowing a bit like molten silver. He didn't think so, because the blond continued talking like nothing was wrong.

"I would like to see how our wards have held up after we eat. I hope you don't mind disrobing again, Potter, seeing as how close I'm going to need to be to you."

Harry grinned. He didn't mind in the least. Reaching forward, he grabbed a plate and stacked pancakes on it, drenched them with maple syrup, and dug in.

Malfoy looked on in disgust. "I don't see how you can eat something that rich this early in the morning, Potter." he said.

The Gryffindor swallowed his mouthful and replied, "Well, you weren't the one doling out power yesterday, were you? If you had, you'd be eating the same thing." Malfoy scowled, but didn't respond. Both of them knew that the fastest way to bring your power back up was to eat as much sugary food as possible- for some reason, it acted as a spur for your reserves.

And it wasn't like any of the sugar was making it into his system, either. It got burned up as soon as it started to get digested. So until Harry's power was back to normal, he could eat straight candy and not an ounce of fat would appear on him. And he'd actually get hungrier, because his body wasn't getting anything out of what he was eating. So it was a good thing that magic completely ignored healthy food, because at least then he could eat and keep the nutrition.

When he finished the mountain of pancakes, he put the plate down and grabbed a cup of tea. Harry deliberately took his time- Malfoy was starting to get impatient, and the Gryffindor wanted to see how long he lasted.

Turned out to be about five minutes. "Come on Potter, enough wasting time. I want to try this now, not in fifty years."

Harry grinned and put his cup down. "Alright already. What do we do first?"

"Take your shirt off."

"Pushy, aren't we?" Harry muttered as he banished the cloth.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes, but refrained from commenting. He stood and took his own shirt off, then walked over and, with an evil smile, sat down on Harry's lap. The Gryffindor wondered if he should use a shrinking spell to keep his sudden erection hidden. Especially when the blond shifted around, trying to get comfortable.

The decision was taken out of his hands, however, when the blond suddenly stopped moving. Harry tried to figure out what he was doing, but before he could, the blond rocked his hips in a decidedly suggestive manner and muttered, "_Very _nice, Potter."

The brunet bit his lip to keep from whimpering, shifting a bit under the blond. He froze, however, when Malfoy twisted a little, pressing his back against Harry's chest and hooking his legs over the Gryffindor's, leaving him sprawled across the brunet. Of course the blond didn't stop there- he took Harry's arms and wrapped them around his waist, placing the brunet's interlaced fingers right above the waistband of his pants. Harry really did whimper this time, although he muffled it in the blond's silky soft hair.

"Comfortable, Potter?" came the low question.

Harry cleared his throat and gritted out, "Don't think that's the word I would use, but yeah, I'm fine."

"Lovely." Harry felt the blond 'standing' outside of his magic, and he quickly threw open the door before the Slytherin could think of any other ways to torture him. Of course, he'd forgotten just how profound the experience of having someone use your magic was. It was almost erotic.

And of course, the blond was too deeply submerged in his magic to be able to pay attention to anything other than what he was doing. The warm weight resting on top of him was driving Harry to distraction, and there was nothing he could do about it. He buried his nose in Malfoy's nape and prayed to Merlin that the blond would finish soon.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry felt Malfoy stir, and he tightened his grip on the blond. The Slytherin twisted around, curiosity on his face. "You look like you're in pain, Potter."

Harry chuckled hoarsely. Last time, he'd fallen asleep before the blond had started taking large amounts of magic out of his body. This time, he'd been awake for it, and it was like nothing he'd ever experienced.

"I'm not in pain, Malfoy." _I'm just so fucking horny it's a wonder my cock hasn't snapped off yet. _He'd transferred magic to someone before, quite a lot of times actually, but it had never left him desperate for the person who'd been using his magic. _Must just be Malfoy_, Harry thought a bit hysterically.

"Well, if you're sure…" the blond said. Harry nodded, and Malfoy turned to get off his lap. But Harry's arms had a mind of their own and wouldn't let go of his waist, and Malfoy turned back to the Gryffindor, a demand for release surely on the tip of his tongue.

But something in Harry's face must have enlightened the Slytherin, because he gave a soft, "Oh. _Oh._"

The brunet narrowed his eyes at the blond, wondering what the hell _that_ was supposed to mean, when Malfoy leaned in and captured his lips in a kiss. A real one, not a tease like the one from last night.

Harry groaned, eyes shutting as their tongues met. Languidly, Malfoy turned in Harry's arms until he was straddling the Gryffindor, kiss deepening as their cocks brushed through the material of their trousers. The Gryffindor groaned and unwrapped his arms from around the Slytherin, before running his hands up and down the Slytherin's chest, finding and tweaking peaked nipples.

Malfoy inhaled sharply, and Harry did it again, before sending his hands up to the blond's hair, getting a handful of it and tilting his head back, revealing a scintillating neck. He kissed his way from those soft lips, down his neck, and sucking on his rapidly beating pulse. Slowly, Harry shifted so that his arse was on the edge of the seat. He took one hand from Malfoy's hair, and used it to wrap the blond's legs around his waist. Thanking Merlin for long hours of working out between the Aurors and Quidditch, the Gryffindor eased Malfoy back onto the floor, magic flaring out and creating a large pillow for the blond to land on.

When they were both on the floor, Harry sat up a bit, taking in the sight before him. Blond hair mussed from his hands, lips starting to swell from rough kissing, and neck peppered with red marks, Malfoy looked fucking _hot_.

Especially when he growled and reached up, dragging Harry back down and claiming his lips in another fierce kiss. If Harry had been any less desperate, he might have had trouble deciding what he wanted to do next, but as it was…

Malfoy's legs had slipped off his hips at some point, so Harry grinned into the kiss and spread them as far as they would go. Resting his weight on his hands, he broke the kiss and settled his erection right on top of Malfoy's.

They both cried out at the feeling, and Harry couldn't help but roll his hips, dragging their erections together. He buried his face in Malfoy's neck as he continued to thrust against the blond. Malfoy's fingers clawed his back as he arched into the motion, and Harry gritted his teeth as he waited for the blond to finish first.

He didn't have to wait long- a couple more thrusts and Malfoy sank his teeth into Harry's shoulder as he cried out, shivers wracking his body as he came. Harry was right behind him, unable to ignore the sound of someone coming because of _him_.

Harry collapsed on top of Malfoy, resting a bit before rolling over and bringing the blond with him. He waited for the other man to say something.

Said blond heaved himself upright, looking down at Harry with a bemused expression on his face. "Well, as completely unexpected as that was," Harry smiled a little at the Slytherin's tone, "it was, in my own, humble opinion, fan-_fucking_-tastic."

Harry stared in shock, then burst out laughing. He never thought he'd see the day where The Ice Prince of Slytherin used an expression Seamus had first thought up.

"Glad you enjoyed it as much as I did." Harry said when he could speak. He grinned at Malfoy, who surprised him by grinning back. _He sure is nice when he's enjoying the afterglow, _Harry thought happily.

The brunet was a bit surprised at how at ease he was, even though he was in such an intimate position. He absently cast a cleaning spell at their groins as he continued to think. Oh, they'd been physically closer during fights, but this kind of felt like they actually _were _closer. Maybe they were friends, now? Or had they skipped that stage completely?

Harry was jerked out of his thoughts by a finger settling on his tattoo, and he watched as Malfoy traced the outline of the sun in glory. Harry wondered what the blond was thinking. When he'd first realized that Malfoy could see all the way into his core, when they were messing with the wards on the window, he'd been a bit scared of what the blond might think of all that power. Would he be scared? Would he push Harry away?

But none of that had happened- instead, Harry had gotten the most brilliant grin, and he hadn't been able to do anything except return it. But he wanted to know what the blond was thinking. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

Malfoy shrugged. "Your tattoo has a couple of rune-y looking things in it- I was wondering if I could read them." Sharp silver eyes glanced up at Harry, and the Gryffindor was astounded by the amount of lust in them. "But they're in an old language, so I can't."

Both of the blond's hands landed on Harry's stomach, and Malfoy pushed them up his chest, arching his back and stretching across the brunet like a cat. His chest followed the path of his hands, and when his fingers reached Harry's head, the blond cupped it and settled himself completely flush with the Gryffindor.

"Now," he started off, "here is our dilemma. We can either continue this rather lovely form of getting to know each other, or we can try leaving our prison." He dipped his head and licked Harry's lower lip, murmuring, "Oh, what _shall _we do?"

Harry couldn't think past Malfoy's mouth. The blond was pressing little kisses around the edges of his lips, and Harry got the feeling that was all he as going to get until he decided.

"I, uh, I think we should-" he was cut off when Malfoy sucked a section of his lower lip into his mouth, then traced his tongue along the inside edge of his lips. Harry gave up and slid his hands into the blond's hair, anchoring his head so Harry could get a proper kiss.

Malfoy hummed in approval, wriggling around on top of the brunet. They kissed for a while, exploring each other's mouths, until the prolonged contact had them both ready for another round.

Harry slid his hands down to Malfoy's arse, cupping it through the cloth and spreading his cheeks. The blond broke the kiss as he panted, resting his forehead on Harry's collarbone. Harry grinned and massaged his handfuls, loving the sounds the other man made.

Malfoy moved his hands to grip Harry's sides, straightening a little and starting to rut against the brunet. Harry gasped- he could feel the muscles moving in the blond's arse as they contracted.

Harry arched into the blond, gasping as Malfoy added a little twist to his motions. The Slytherin's hands gripped Harry's chest, fingers digging into his skin, and Harry gasped as he came without warning. He shuddered, back bent off the pillow, and got swept away in the rush of feeling.

Malfoy came seconds later, and he fell on top of Harry, panting and quivering. He moved to roll off of Harry, but the Gryffindor wrapped his arms around the blond and wouldn't let him move.

"I applaud your decision, Potter," Malfoy panted out.

Harry grinned. "Yeah, I quite liked it, too." He sucked in deep breathe. "I think I like Wednesday's." Malfoy just chuckled.

He resettled his arms around the blond, loving the weight of him. They stayed like that until Malfoy shifted, then sat up. Harry let his arms fall away, wondering what the blond was up to.

"As much as I hate to say this," Harry groaned. He knew where this was going, alright. "we need to test out that window. Potter," the Gryffindor looked at him hopefully, and Malfoy smiled. "you get to be the first one to go out of the window."

Harry made a face. Not what he'd wanted to hear, not at all. "Fine." he said, but he didn't move to get up. Malfoy went to open his mouth, undoubtedly to ask why, when he snapped it shut and slid off the brunet. Harry _wouldn't_ laugh.

He got up and looked around, casting another cleaning spell on them both before starting to move furniture out of the way. Malfoy watched him from the pillow, then asked, "What are you doing?"

"Unless I move this stuff, there won't be enough space for me to transform." he said with a grunt. Those rickety chairs were heavier than they looked.

Malfoy _hmmm_'d, and Harry looked over at him, wondering if the blond realized he'd made the same sound when they were frotting.

Finally there was enough room, and Harry turned to look at Malfoy. "Don't laugh," he warned before he closed his eyes to concentrate. Because there was no way he was going to be able to when a lounging, post coital blond was right in front of him.

He felt his magic shimmer around him, and idly wondered what it looked like to Malfoy. Then the magic fell away, and he blinked his eyes open, getting used to being able to see in such sharp detail. He looked over at Malfoy, and his beak opened wide with gryphonic laughter at the look on the man's face.

He settled onto his haunches, and heard Malfoy mutter under his breath, "And now I know why you didn't want me to tell anyone." Harry just laughed at him some more. But the inability to talk was what prompted him to change back.

Malfoy glared at him. "A gryphon! How utterly absurd! Did no one think to tell the gods that the coincidence is just too much?"

Harry just smiled. Yeah, that was pretty much the reaction he'd expected. "Your turn." he said in a sing song voice. Malfoy sneered as he levered himself off of the pillow. He went to the center of the room, pushing Harry out of the way and onto the pillow.

With one last glare, Malfoy shut his eyes. Harry watched as magic swirled around the blond, and blurred his form. When Harry could see him again, he stared in shock.

The pale golden _dragon_ on the floor in front of him hissed a warning, not like Harry needed one telling him not to laugh. Harry, as a gryphon, was about the same size as a horse. The dragon in front of him would only come up to his back, but more than made up for it in length. Malfoy blurred again and stalked over to Harry.

Harry just stared at him. "You know, it isn't even the fact that a Slytherin named Draco is a dragon animagus," Harry said slowly. "But the fact that our forms are one's that coexist peacefully in the wild?" he trailed off, shaking his head.

Miniature Sharp Wing Dragons, like the one Malfoy transformed into, were the only dragons that willingly co-existed with another creature, besides other dragons. Found mostly along the coast, the tended to live in colonies, formed of equal parts dragon and gryphon.

But not just any gryphon. The Hellsbane Gryphon, the type Harry turned into, had almost been hunted to extinction by wizards looking to 'harvest' their extremely warm pelts. So the gryphons, who were mainly fish eaters, joined forces with the dragons, who mainly ate wild animals of the land. The dragons kept the hunters away, and the gryphons watched over nestlings and were used as heating blankets for the cold blooded dragons.

The arrangement had lasted for the better part of eight hundred years, and most magizoologists seem to think their pact had evolved into actual dependency and mutual trust. Which was amazing for any creature, magical or not.

"Yes," Malfoy said tightly, "I know."

Harry stared at him, wondering what had gotten into the Slytherin. He narrowed his eyes, then decided to say something.

"Well, I for one think it's pretty cool." Harry declared. Suddenly, a thought came to him. "How long have you been an animagus?" he asked curiously.

"Summer before Fourth Year." the blond replied. "Why?"

"That's when I became one, too." Harry said, shaking his head. "Well, now we know why we couldn't leave each other alone for the past three years."

Malfoy nodded in agreement, his body slowly loosing it's tension. They both knew that wizards started taking on the personalities of the animals they became, and since these two creatures, in nature, spent so much time together, it made sense that their animagus forms would want the same thing. But the only way that would happen for the two wizards is through fights. And so, they fought.

Harry laid a comforting hand on Malfoy's shoulder and looked at him, eyes wide and sincere. "I didn't just fight with you because there was something in me making me, Malfoy," he said in a tone full of bullshit, "I did it because I _love_ fighting with you!"

The blond stared at him, then started laughing, actually rocking back and forth with the force of his hilarity.

Harry grinned. Tension gone, now maybe they could eat the lunch that had just arrived in peace.

… … …

_Bullshit- an offensive term meaning to say things that are completely untrue or very foolish… Encarta ® World English Dictionary © & (P) 1998-2005 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved._

_Hehe, I couldn't resist. I actually didn't know the definition until I looked it up- I always just had that line from 'How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days' stuck in my head. You know- "Bullshit, Mama!" that one._

_Ah, the insanity that is me._

_Ciao!_

_MannyWitch_


	6. Chapter 6

**Title****: Working It Out (temp)**

**Summary****: Harry and Malfoy are the bane of their Professors lives. When they finally go too far, can the teachers new idea help them stop fighting? Or will it push them away?**

**Warnings****: Graphic sex, SLASH, yaoi, boy-on-boy, foul language, fighting, etc. Not for the faint of heart. What can I say? It's fun to write. *grin* manipulative!Draco, powerful!Harry, redeemable!Hermione **

**Author's Note****: I wrote this whole story when I was supposed to be finishing 'And You Thought This, Why?' the sequel to 'Um, Whoops?'. *sigh* oh well. Enjoy! Also, the Points of View switches per chapter. So, Harry, then Draco, then Harry, and so on.**

**Recap**_-_

_Harry laid a comforting hand on Malfoy's shoulder and looked at him, eyes wide and sincere. "I didn't just fight with you because there was something in me making me, Malfoy," he said in a tone full of bullshit, "I did it because I love fighting with you!"_

_The blond stared at him, then started laughing, actually rocking back and forth with the force of his hilarity._

**Chapter 6- Draco Malfoy**

Draco still couldn't believe how much food the Gryffindor across from him could eat. It was amazing, really. Oh, he knew all about replacing magical energy and needing to eat because you just had the best sex of your life (twice), but really. It was one thing to know something, and another to see it in action.

"Potter," the brunet looked up, pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth, "We still need to test the wards."

The Gryffindor sighed, putting his fork back on the plate and leaning into his chair. "I know," he said. Then his eyes started to gleam. "Those wards were working correctly when you checked them this morning, right?"

Draco nodded.

"Good."

Then before Draco could say anything else, the Gryffindor lunged out of his seat, turned in to a gryphon, and flew towards the glass. _Thank Merlin it turned into mist as he went through,_ Draco thought as he took a deep breath. _Bloody Gryffindors._

About five minutes passed before Potter came flying back through the window, transforming as he landed. Draco had to admire the coordination that took, even as he got ready to flay the moron.

Before he could say anything, however, Potter started talking. "That was so amazing!" he gestured with his hands, and Draco raised an eyebrow. The man was acting like a Hufflepuff.

"Really, it was that spectacular?" he asked, curious now. Potter nodded eagerly, and Draco forwent the lecture as he rose out of his seat. The blond took a step forward and changed, then slid out of the window. He allowed himself to fall halfway down the Tower before spreading his wings, catching a draft that sent him shooting back up in to the sky.

As he passed the tower window, he saw Potter standing there, watching him. So he made a beckoning gesture, and watched as the man became a gryphon and launch himself into the sky, quickly reaching Draco. They turned and flew together, weaving and bobbing around each other and the castle's various turrets and towers.

Then towards the Forest they headed, flying low over the tree tops. Draco glanced over, and roared at Potter. The gryphon screeched something back, than banked straight up. Draco turned in a circle, watching Potter head up and up. Then he stopped flying, and his upward motion slowed to nothing. As the gryphon started to fall, his wings seemed to drift over his head. Right before he would have hit the tree tops, he gave a sudden surge with his wings and ended up parallel with the ground, three feet above the trees.

Draco roared at him, soaring above him and clouting him with a wing tip. _Idiot Gryffindor_, he thought.

Eventually, though, they grew tired and headed back to the Tower, more gliding than anything else. Draco sailed into the rooms after Potter, watching to make sure the brunet had gotten out of the way first. Both of them collapsed in a heap on the floor, exhausted.

Draco looked down into the grinning face of his Gryffindor, and arched an eyebrow. The man was grinning like a kid in a candy store. "That was, was…" the brunet trailed off, having been unable to find the words.

The blond took pity on him. "Yes, I know."

They grinned at each other for a few more seconds, until Draco remembered what had happened the last time they were in this particular position together. Draco leaned forward a bit, watching Potter carefully. Although it looked like he didn't need to, given the way his breathing sped up the closer the blond got.

Draco brushed his lips once, twice against the brunets, before deepening the kiss. He rather liked that Potter always let him take the lead with kissing. Poor boy probably though that Draco would hex him if he kissed him with out permission. Not that he would, but he'd let the Gryffindor figure that out for himself.

His tongue danced with Potter's, sending tingles straight down his spine to his cock. The Slytherin found he liked this lazy kind of kissing, no battle for dominance, just enjoying the sensations.

He shifted his weight, and felt the brunet's erection press against his hip. Draco laughed a little into the kiss, thinking that it didn't really take that much to get Potter going. But he pulled away, breaking the kiss off as he sat back.

"As much fun as this is, my stomach is growling and dinner just arrived. Shall we?"

… … …

Ham and turkey, biscuits and gravy, various fruits and drinks selections had been on the table when dinner arrived. Currently, the last apple slices were being thoughtfully munched on by Potter. Everything else was gone. The two men had burned a lot of energy, both magical and physical during the day, and replacing it was top priority for both.

Once the Gryffindor had finished, and gotten his now customary cup of tea, Draco started talking.

"While I wholeheartedly agree with our plan to ruin Dumbledore's reputation, there is a very small chance of success with just the two of us attempting it. We are going to need more people to make this happen."

Potter nodded. Settling back into his chair, he took a sip of tea. "Well, I know Hermione will be willing to help, given that she'll feel responsible for me being in here. Although that means I'm going to have to tell her…" he trailed off, and Draco nodded. He'd have to tell her about the training that Dumbledore was forcing on him, the power symbol on his belly, everything about the dynamics between the two of them. Granger wouldn't be satisfied with half truths and outright lies.

"That's fine with me- I'll need my own advisors, of course, who will be told just as much." Draco snorted. "Besides, both of use know that of the two women in our lives, neither of them would let us go off and do something like this _without_ them."

Potter laughed, and the Slytherin basked in the sound. He wasn't sure, but this might be the first time Potter had laughed with him, not at him.

The Gryffindor finally stopped, inhaling deeply to calm himself. "Pansy and Hermione, eh? What a pair they'll make."

Draco gave a half smirk, the twist of his lips a familiar expression. He turned toward the window, letting his legs hang off the arm of the chair and resting his back against the other, eyes on the setting rays of the sun. He wondered if Potter was remembering what had happened at this time last night.

"I think that most of the Slytherins would be willing to go along with a plan to oust Dumbledore- there is no love lost between us." The snort from behind him make his smirk into more of a smile. "Ravenclaw won't care, I think, but Hufflepuff will be the hardest to sway." He rolled his eyes. "Bloody loyal idiots." he muttered.

The brunet chuckled. "Don't be so hard on them, Malfoy. The Headmaster has been enough of a jerk to them that a little convincing will be all it takes."

Draco scowled. "And then, of course, there are your Lions. Who would follow you into Hell, I assume."

"Don't assume so much," came the reply, tone a slight warning. "They aren't exactly happy with me this year. Of course, it's all Dumbledore's fault, so that might sway them, but I doubt it. The only solid support we can count on is Hermione, Seamus, Dean and Neville."

The Slytherin swung back around in his chair to face the brunet. "So things are not as lovey-dovey as they appear from the outside, are they?" His voice was cold, but he watched in satisfaction as Potter just raised an eyebrow. The Gryffindor either knew the nuances of Draco's every expression, or he could somehow read it. No matter to him- the Slytherin was just pleased that there was no anger in his eyes. "Well, it's a widely known fact that most Gryffindors are morons, so that's that. The smart one's are the one's on our side."

That startled another chuckle out of the man, and Draco wondered at the feelings it caused. Who had known how good it would feel to be the cause of someone's happiness, instead of their pain?

"Yes, well we're going to need to figure it out more specifically so we make sure that no one tattles."

Draco nodded in agreement. "This promises to be very interesting." He saw Potter nod. They sat in silence for a while, watching the sun, and each other out of corners of eyes. The Slytherin was torn- on one hand, he'd like to continue 'getting to know Potter', but on the other, he didn't want to always be the one to make the first move.

So he made himself a deal. He could tease Potter, but for anything else, the Gryffindor had to start it. He grinned. This was going to be very interesting, indeed.

He stretched, arching his arms over his head and curving his back to allow his shirt to lift and show inches of stomach. With lazy grace, he got to his feet and headed to the bedroom, saying over his shoulder, "I'm going to have a shower. Don't worry, Potter- I'll save you some hot water."

Entering the room, Draco grabbed a couple towels and a set of night clothes before turning back around and heading to the bathroom. When he opened the door, however, he saw that his sunken green striped marble tub and silver faucets had been replaced by a large shower stall, replete with black tiles and brass faucets. The doors of the stall were glass. Draco smirked, then stripped and turned on the water. He idly wondered if Potter was brave enough to walk in on him.

… … …

Thursday morning was Draco's turn to roll out of bed in the wee hours of the morning, certain that he'd missed Quidditch practice. A growl rose in his throat as he wondered what his team was thinking of this. _They've probably already decided on a substitute captain,_ he thought with a snort as he forced himself to the common room to exercise.

Though it was not his favorite thing to do, Draco forced himself through his Quidditch routine, making sure he didn't skimp. While he adored the game itself, the training for it was not as much fun. But it did give him a nice tone to his body, so he pushed through. But there was no way the Slytherin was going to punish himself for two hours like Potter. An hour would suffice.

By the time he'd finished, Potter was sleepily strolling in. Draco eyed him thoughtfully. Maybe, if exercising gave him a body like that, he'd do it more. Then he rolled his eyes as he spelled the sweat away. He barely made it through his normal routine.

Taking a seat, he reached for a plate, then loaded it with fruit and protein. When he saw Potter's pointed eyes, he growled, "What? Have you a problem with my eating habits?"

The Gryffindor just shook his head, and Draco turned away. Even those things Muggles talked about, _endorphins_, or some such nonsense, couldn't make him less grumpy after a workout.

So he finished his meal and sat back, watching Potter from under his lashes. The brunet was looking out the window, absentmindedly rubbing his right shoulder, a pensive expression on his face.

Knowing that Potter could hear past the frigidness of his voice didn't stop Draco from saying, "Continue that and you will wear a hole in your shoulder," in his most arrogant, regal voice.

Potter looked up, startled, then pulled his hand away. He frowned a little, then said, "Who shoved a stick up your ass today, Malfoy?"

Draco was taken aback. But he didn't let it show as he sat forward and growled, "The same person who fucked up your face, you moronic pansy."

He watched as the Gryffindor woke completely up, watched him grab the armrests so tight his knuckles turned white, and saw, to his surprise, a gleam of anticipation in those emerald eyes of his. "Fuck you, Malfoy," the brunet spat, adding, "you Slytherin bastard."

Draco couldn't help his shiver of expectation, couldn't stop- even if he'd wanted to- the gathering tightness in his muscles. "At least I have a Father, you orphan."

He was expecting the lunge from across the table, grinned viciously as he used the Gryffindors momentum to send him into the floor. His grin got a little wider as Potter got up and headed back to him, as Draco stood up and met him head on. And then there was nothing but fists flying, nothing but the grunts of pain and exertion from the both of them.

When Potter finally pinned Draco, arms twisted behind his back and cheek pressed against the wall, they were both panting and out of breath. Then Draco felt the pressure lighten as Potter turned him, then slammed him into the wall again. "Asshole," the Gryffindor growled.

"Coward," Draco snarled back. The Slytherin was surprised by how much he was enjoying this, and not so surprised at how much it had turned him on. But something in Potter's eyes caught him, something unfathomable, something that was pure heat. So when the other man leaned forward and brushed his lips against Draco's, begging and demanding entrance, Draco simply smiled and responded.

The kiss was gentle, sweet and slow, the opposite of the fury of their fight. The grip Potter had on him turned from shackles to a possessive caress, hands running up and down his arms. Draco moaned, deepening the kiss, and freed his hands from Potters grasp. Instead, he used them to anchor the man's head, reveling in the feel of the Gryffindor's hands spasming on his sides.

Draco suddenly needed to feel Potter, to be as close to him as possible. With one swift movement, he wrapped his legs around the man's waist and pulled him in close, enjoying the other Seeker's gasping sob of delight. He shifted a bit, wriggled around until his head was higher than Potter's, then broke the kiss, needing, and hating, air.

But that didn't stop Potter. When Draco pulled back, the Gryffindor simply followed him, tracing kisses down his jaw, and settling on his pulse point. Draco was awash in pleasure, heart beating so hard he thought it was trying to get out of his chest. And the feel of Potter's tongue, laving his skin and bringing him ever closer to the exquisite peak, was making it even harder to breathe.

Head back against the wall, Draco looked down at the unruly hair of his former nemesis, watched and felt his hands slide up under his shirt and brush dangerously close to the waist of his pants. As his breath hitched, the Slytherin smirked. Trailing his fingers across his…_lover's_…neck, he undid the first couple of buttons, all that he could reach, and slid a hand inside, teasing and tweaking the peaks he found. Potter's mouth left his neck, drawing in several deep and ragged breaths before he looked up and Draco.

Draco met his eyes, and the smirk melted off his face when he saw the look in Potter's eyes. Need, yes, need was there, but in those liquid, emerald green depths was something else, something he didn't want to think about right now. So he lowered his lips to Potter's, sucking lightly only the bottom one while keeping his eyes on the Gryffindor's. And when need had overwhelmed everything else, he pulled away, evaded Potter's questing lips, and rocked his hips. The sudden spike of pleasure left him gasping, and he did it again and again, wanting that release.

But Potter pulled away, and he growled at his lover, snarled when the brunet put his hands between them. But when those hands slid into his pants, when they grasped him and _pulled_, when all he could think about were the stars in his eyes, he did the same. And it only took seconds for them to come, one right after the other.

When Draco's eyes cleared, and he could feel again, he rested his cheek against the top of Potter's head, which was resting on his chest. "Merlin", he breathed, voice hoarse.

Potter shifted and sighed. Then he picked his head up and grinned at Draco, who just looked at him, a small smile on his face. When Potter moved away from the wall, Draco made no move to get down- how was he supposed to walk, with his legs quivering like they were?- and let the man carry him back to the bedroom. When Potter set him down and moved to go to his own bed, Draco's legs around his waist stopped him. So Potter did what Draco wanted him to- he flopped down, wrapped himself around the blond, and fell asleep.

Draco stayed awake a little longer, marveling over the fact that the most erotic experience of his life had been one where he'd stayed fully clothed, with only a little- very little- skin to skin contact. But he was too tired, and thinking took too much energy, that he fell asleep, wrapped securely in his lovers arm. His last thought was amusing, at least, to him. _That my lover is someone I've yet to sleep with…_

… … …

'_Tis shorter than normal, but I like it, and I thought adding more to this chapter would take away from the romance of it(yes, this _is _my version of romance). But as per the norm, I hope you enjoyed, and I hope you review. And Harry's 'pensive expression' will be explained in the next chapter. _

_Loves to y'all!_

_MannyWitch_


	7. Chapter 7

**Title****: Working It Out (temp)**

**Summary****: Harry and Malfoy are the bane of their Professors lives. When they finally go too far, can the teachers new idea help them stop fighting? Or will it push them away?**

**Warnings****: Graphic sex, SLASH, yaoi, boy-on-boy, foul language, fighting, etc. Not for the faint of heart. What can I say? It's fun to write. *grin* manipulative!Draco, powerful!Harry, redeemable!Hermione **

**Author's Note****: I wrote this whole story when I was supposed to be finishing 'And You Thought This, Why?' the sequel to 'Um, Whoops?'. *sigh* oh well. Enjoy! Also, the Points of View switches per chapter. So, Harry, then Draco, then Harry, and so on.**

**Recap**_-_

_Draco stayed awake a little longer, marveling over the fact that the most erotic experience of his life had been one where he'd stayed fully clothed, with only a little- very little- skin to skin contact. But he was too tired, and thinking took too much energy, that he fell asleep, wrapped securely in his lovers arm. _

**Chapter 7- Harry Potter**

When Harry blearily opened his eyes, it was because the sun was dancing across his face. He shifted, burying his head back into the shoulder in front of him. Then he froze, wondering why in the _hell_ he was snuggled up to Malfoy. That was when his groin brushed the arse in front of him, and the sweet flash of pleasure reminded him of the mornings…_activities. _He wondered what was going to happen when Malfoy woke up.

His arms unconsciously tightened on the other man, drawing him back closer to Harry's chest. He wanted, dearly, for this morning to not fuck up his chances with the blond, who'd somehow, someway, managed to wriggle into Harry's heart. The Gryffindor frowned at the thought. Five days- he'd only really known the blond for five days. It was like he'd just been waiting for an opportunity to fall in love with the Slytherin. _Oh shit_. _Fall in _love. _Is that really what I've done? _he thought.

Settling himself against the still slumbering body he was wrapped around, Harry took stock of his feelings. He liked the caustic sense of humor, the rapier sharp wit, the frigid tones that only he could decipher. He liked the man's vanity, his rough edges, his quirks. Hell, he even liked the blond when they were fighting!

Harry inhaled, basking in the warmth from the sun, the warmth from the blond, the simple pleasure of holding someone. _Maybe,_ he mused, _it wouldn't be so bad to be in love with Malfoy._

He stayed wrapped around the blond for another half hour, until the Slytherin started shifting. Then he loosened his grip and allowed the blond to roll away, then back over to face him. Harry marveled at the fact that, even with sleep lines on his face, and hair plastered to his scalp with sweat, Malfoy still managed to look, well, fucking sexy.

And those sleepy eyes of his, with ghosts of lust in them, weren't any help. When he graced Harry with a smile, the Gryffindor couldn't help but return it. When he sat up and leaned over the brunet, saying with a hoarse, sultry voice "There are more interesting ways to wake up than being too warm," Harry was pretty sure he was in over his head. And when their lips met for a sweet, chaste kiss, mid-morning breath and all, he was sure of it.

… … …

It hadn't been as awkward as he'd thought, waking up with Malfoy. He'd fumbled a bit, wondering what was going to happen next, but then Malfoy had declared that he was getting in the shower first, although, "You'd be more than welcome to join me." Harry _still_ shuddered every time he thought about that. But things had gone smoothly from there. Lunch had been ready when they'd emerged from the bedroom, and completely gone within minutes.

For a Thursday, it was dreary, with a dull grey sky seeping into the room, fog covering all of the grounds, and occasional splatters of rain against the window. The rays of sun that had woken him up were the last of their kind for the rest of the day. By common agreement, the two men settled in to work on their assignments, occasionally asking the other a question. Harry was always amazed when Malfoy responded politely, though a bit caustically, to all of Harry's Potions questions. Although, since he was asking almost as much about Defense, Harry figured that they were even.

It took three hours, but they both finished up the three days worth of work and sat back with a sigh. Harry glanced over at Malfoy, wondering idly how his hair could shine even during a day this overcast. Malfoy caught the look and sent him a smirk.

Harry narrowed his eyes, but before he could say anything, Malfoy beat him to it. "We need to figure out exactly what is going on in our little rebellion, Potter."

The Gryffindor nodded thoughtfully. Stretching, he said, "Well, I'd really love to see Voldemort, Dumblefuck, and Snape all pulled down, if you must know."

The blond snorted. "That you include someone whom you know to be related to me in your little list is amusing. But never mind that- I agree with you. The question is, how do we go about doing it?"

Harry gave a tiny grin. "This is the part where Hermione and Pansy come in, I guess. You know-" he sent the blond a sidelong glance, "the vindictive ones?"

That startled a laugh out of the blond. Harry's grin got a little wider. He settled back in his chair and turned to face the window. "But what I really think we need to do," he said slowly, "is discredit Dumbledore and Snape. Voldemort really just needs to be killed, don't you think?"

All he received for that was a negligent wave of the hand. "Yes, of course, my dear Gryffindor. But how?" Harry shrugged. "You're no help at all, are you, Scar Face?"

"Nope." The brunet sent Malfoy a wicked smile. "So, since we have nothing better to do…" he trailed off, watching as an answering gleam appeared in the Slytherin's eyes, "Do you want to start thinking about how to win the Houses over?" Harry hid a laugh at the flash of annoyance in Malfoy's eyes at what he was obviously not expecting.

"Well, for the Slytherin's, all we have to do is offer the slightest possibility of getting Dumbledore's head on a platter. Snape will be more difficult, but I can assure you that the Dark Lord will get no Death Eaters from this school. At least," he amended, "not from Slytherin."

Harry nodded soberly. He'd never wanted to face classmates out on a battlefield, and Malfoy was going to take measures to ensure he wouldn't.

He sighed. "I think that for Ravenclaw, I just need to speak with Luna." The Gryffindor raised his eyebrows at Malfoy's snort. "Hey- don't discount her. She'd got her House wrapped around her little finger."

"That, Potter, is _why_ I do. I mean really- Loony? What possible reason could make the House follow her lead?" he said, a bit plaintively.

Harry grinned. "Try talking to her one day, Malfoy, and you'll see. For a nut, she's rather smart. There's a reason she's in Ravenclaw, you know."

Malfoy just _looked _at him, then changed the subject. "Have we plotted enough for one day?" he asked.

The brunet shrugged. "I guess so- I mean, we can still talk about what we need to do to discredit Dumblefuck and Snape, and we still need to figure out how to-" Harry's words we cut off by a pair of lips against his. He froze for a second, then relaxed into the kiss. Wondering idly how Malfoy had gotten over here so quickly, he slid his hands through the white blond strands, and shifted a bit so that the Slytherin could comfortably sit on his lap.

When the Slytherin broke this kiss for air, Harry grinned up at him. "I like how you change the subject, Malfoy."

The blond sniffed haughtily. "Yes, well eventually that Gryffindor brain of yours will realize that you like everything about me." Harry just smiled harder, decided not to tell the blond he'd already figured that out, and leaned in for another kiss.

… … …

_Yes it IS short but I wanted to post it as a way to get back in the grove with the story. Hope you enjoy the mushy-ness!_

_MannyWitch_


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